This and That

It has been far too long since I last posted, and there is so much to catch up on. :( I just need to get back on the horse and keep riding, so away I go. Here are several "quick and dirty" posts of anecdotes that need little elaboration or reflection; in the coming days I will post more entries of the many thoughts and reflections I've been musing over in these silent days away from my blog....

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Leo's language, vocabulary, and ability to speak in full essays astounds me. He is a chatterbox!! My two favorite mix ups he uses are

Becept = Except. As in, "I wanted to ride my bike, becept Mommy said no!" (Aidan used to correct him on this every time, but recently gave up because Leo completely ignores him.)

...and one day, Jeff told Leo that he was being very contrary, "Like Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary." We teased him about being Mary Mary Quite Contrary, and now, when he is being ornery, he announces with delight, "I'm being like Mary Mary Concentrary!!"

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Motivation

Aidan's voracious appetite for reading continues to delight me. He's taken to reading books on the long ride home on the school bus, and even reading while walking the whole way home!!! He walked right past our house one afternoon because he was so engrossed in the adventures of Jack and Annie of the beloved Magic Treehouse series.

I try not to be a braggart parent, but what good is a blog if not for a little bragging here and there? Recently Aidan's teacher called me about when I could come in and volunteer in the classroom. I mentioned how much Aidan enjoyed her class, and for the second year in a row, his teacher said to me, "Oh, if only I could have an entire room full of Aidans!"

I felt great validation and satisfaction over a deliberate parenting choice Jeff and I have made. By and large, we do not use extrinsic motivators of any kind with our kids. (Exceptions included M&M's during potty training and recently, a trip to the ice cream store after a particularly painful shot) As a teacher, I am firmly against the use of extrinsic motivators; my philosophy of teaching, much like my philosophy of parenting, is that intrinsic motivation is the driving force behind success. Reading is its own reward; a job well done should result in satisfaction and self-pride, not a prize; high expectations, without extrinsic rewards, leads to healthy, happy, self-confident, productive people. At Aidan's school, they use a positive reinforcement behavior plan which I support wholeheartedly - positive reinforcement is an excellent method. Students are recognized for their good behavior and earn tickets that can be redeemed at the Star Store. Last year, much to my dismay, Aidan came home week after week with absolute junk - crappy toys, cheap blow-up animals, beaten-up stuffed animals. Much to my relief, the novelty eventually wore off and at the end of the year he was left with a hundred or so unredeemed tickets. I raised my concerns at a PTO meeting and suggested that items sold in the school store should support the school concept - markers, crayons, folders, cool pens and pencils; the "top shelf" items could be - gasp - BOOKS!! My suggestions were met with some enthusiasm and some skepticism; I let the matter go, and decided this was not a battle I was willing to fight.

Imagine my surprise and delight when Aidan came home from school after his first trip to the Star Store and announced what he had "bought" that day - the opportunity to have lunch with one of the assistant principals!! My boy chose to have lunch with a principal over all the other stuff that was available to him. I felt proud and happy, both because Aidan had made such a wonderful choice all on his own, and because the school, in one small part, had listened and responded to my suggestion. Although there is still a lot of junk being sold, there are also crayons, markers, folders -- and the opportunity to have lunch with a principal.

Hard at work

Pax deserves a very long, reflective post about how very wonderful and BIG he is, but I must mention just two tidbits about him. Every morning when the school bus arrives to collect Aidan, Pax enthusiastically waves goodbye to Aidan and grins from ear to ear. Every afternoon when the big yellow bus returns, Pax waves eagerly in excitement to greet his biggest brother. All the parents at the bus stop, and I suspect, the passersby waiting in cars, adore the sight of a baby waving to his beloved oldest brother.

One other favorite thing about Pax these days is how hard he is at "work." Pax views the toys in our home as his full time job. Each morning after breakfast, he seems to say, "Okay, put me down. It is time I get to work!" He starts at the kitchen set where he dumps out all the bowls of play food, turns the bowl upside down, and beats on it like a drum. He chews on the slice of orange and carries the potato chip around in his mouth. He makes his way over to the fridge, where he pulls off as many magnets as he can, pulling himself to standing to reach the triceratops I've scooted to just beyond his reach. He hits the music button on the Leapster fridge magnets for good measure before heading into the family room, where he clears every shelf he can reach in Leo's dollhouse. Holding the Daddy doll in one hand and the elephant in another, he claps them together, laughing with the strange noise the wooden doll head makes against the semi-plastic elephant trunk. Finally, he heads to the totes under the table where he methodically dumps each one out - until the Foreman comes along and takes away any totes he hasn't managed to dump yet. Undeterred, he sets about mouthing every new toy that litters the ground, content to "work" until sheer exhaustion forces him to demand his morning nap.... (that's some kind of a cushy job that lets you take a siesta mid-morning!)

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"The child must know that he is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world

there has never been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like him."

-Pablo Casals

Crooks and Kindling

He greeted us cheerfully, eagerly, grinning a too-wide smile before we were fully through the door. I eyed him warily, met his Cheshire grin with a steady look that politely said - don't even try it with me, Buster. His very presence was an affront to the beloved store we'd just entered. I announced, "C'mon, this way to the books!" (heavy emphasis.) I triumphantly marched by him, my posse of children and their adoring grandma in tow, straight to the back of the store where the magic of Eric Carle, Mo Willems and Mary Pope Osborne awaited us. He watched us go, sheepish, knowing he had nothing - nothing to offer us; slightly (hopefully) deflated, he returned to his position behind the Nook display and waited for his next target. He had to be lonely - there he stood, a veritable hot dog vendor in a sea of vegetarians.

I make no attempt at hiding my true feelings about the Nook and the Kindle. They are filthy words in my mouth; I prefer to call them what they really are - Crook and Kindling, for they steal paper-and-binding books out of people's hands and their only use might be kindling for a bonfire (Farenheit 651). I loathe them, I detest them, I despise them. Like the octogenarians of today who shun email and cling to stationary and stamps, I will be the 85 year old woman who refuses to give up my beloved, true, actual books. I vow, here and now, that I will never, ever own a Crook, Kindling, or anything else that threatens the existence of my beloved books.

Aidan has recently taken another giant leap forward in his reading. At the beginning of the summer, he could not read Osborne's Magic Treehouse books without a lot of support. He loved the stories, though, so Jeff and I spent many lazy summer afternoons reading the books aloud to him. Gradually, he started rereading the ones we'd read, gaining confidence - and comprehension - each time he decoded and fluently recited the words on the page. Then, suddenly, he was reading them fluently, with accurate comprehension, and completely independently. I was stressing one afternoon over the homework assignment we'd somehow managed to lose - a collection of words he was supposed to sort and practice spelling. The words were review, and very easy for him - cot, hot, lot, mat, hat, bat. After listening to him read Magic Treehouse without so much as pausing before reading "Pennsylvania," I decided we could stop stressing about the words. He was reading circles around "cot" and "hat"!

He can be a voracious reader. After school one day, I asked him if he wanted to help make banana bread with me and Leo - something he positively loves to do. "Not right now," he said. "I'm reading, and I just don't want to stop!!" "Really?" I asked incredulously. "Yes, Mom, I need to find out where Annie and Jack are going next!" I paused, relishing in the moment, letting it sink in to my permanent memory. He has arrived, I thought to myself. He has arrived at the discovery of the magic and power and love and lure of books.

I love the smell of books, the sound they make the first time you open them. I love books from the library; I always look at the dates stamped on the check out card to see when else this book was checked out, how many people had read it. I think about who they might be, and I wonder if they loved (or hated) the book as much as I did.

There are few purchases that bring me more pleasure than buying a book - book buying even beats a great sale on a fabulous outfit. Buying books feels indulgent and decadent, yet it also feels like I'm doing something really good for myself, since books make you smarter and more interesting. Books are cheap. I can take risks - try books beyond my usual preferences - with no regrets except possibly not liking it. Books don't come in one size only; I don't have to try them on, and I can share them with all my friends. Books aren't exclusive to age; although I can no longer pull off a onesie or a miniskirt, I certainly can still get lost in a Leo Lionni book or the latest adolescent read. Books decorate a shelf, add interest and personality to a room, act as coasters on a coffee table, and can be used by home dwellers in self-defense against creepy crawlies from the outside. I ask you, Dear Reader: can the Crook do all that? The Kindling?

The revered Thomas Jefferson aptly stated, "I cannot live without books." I cannot live without books, either. But I certainly will live without Crooks and Kindling. The score? We, the reader of true, real, actual books: 1. Them, the Crooks and Kindling peddlers -seller of that hated "n" word - Nook - 0.

Sweet Tooth

(left in the tooth pillow under his pillow)

Dear Tooth Fairy,
Mommy accidentally put a brownie in the sandwich baggie that had my front tooth in it, and sent the brownie/tooth to work with my daddy. Will you still visit me tonight? Love, Aidan.

Dear Aidan,
Your mommy is so silly! Do not worry about not leaving the tooth. I have extras. Love, The Tooth Fairy.

P.S. Now that's what I call a sweet tooth!!

Camp Laguna! at OneTrueMedia.com

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Dear Mrs. Jackson

Tomorrow we head off to Business Day at Aidan's elementary school to meet his first grade teacher, Mrs. Jackson. He is very excited to give her this letter that he wrote to her; when I was teaching full time, one of the last assignments my students did each year was to write a letter to their future teacher as a way of introducing themselves. Aidan loved this idea when I presented it to him, and worked hard and diligently to complete the letter. Aside from giving him the correct spelling of "Jackson" and except for a few reminders about spacing, this is 100% Aidan's work. (For those of you who might be a little rusty in reading first grade writing, it reads, Dear Mrs. Jackson, I am excited to be in your class. This summer I went on a airplane to California. Did you go on vacation? One of the things I like to do is read non-fiction books. See you on Tuesday. From, Aidan Carter.)

One year ago, Aidan was writing short, simple sentences and still practicing the letters of the alphabet. Even though I've had more exposure than most parents to the process of learning to write and read, this developmental milestone ceases to amaze me. I am so proud of Aidan for the writer he is, and the writer he is becoming.