Monday, March 29, 2010

The Art of Learning


My daughter, newly twelve, jumped up from her homework one night and said, "Hold on a moment, I need to check something." She proceeded to twirl. And twirl and twirl. With her arms flung out and her back slightly arched, standing on her toes, she twirled in my living room for almost a minute. Then she paused and began twirling in the opposite direction.

When she finally stopped, she stood, swaying gently, looking pretty darn dizzy. Then she said, "Nope, doesn't work."
"What doesn't work?" I had to ask.
"If you spin in one direction and then spin in the other direction, you still get dizzy."

I love how kids think. My other child, nine-year-old Alex, is trying to teach our dog to read. He taught Princess to sit, shake, stay, come. So, of course, the next step is obviously reading. Ask any well-educated dog.

He started with teaching her the word "princess" but then came to the conclusion that even if Princess could read her own name, she wouldn't be able to let him know because she can't talk. Now Alex is creating signs with commands on them, so she can respond with an action. Clever, huh? I found his pile of written commands on the counter this morning. "sit" "stay" and of, course, the much desirable and lesser-know command, "poo."

I love how kids think.


Thursday, March 4, 2010

Not crazy

I walked into the kitchen last night at 10:30pm because I heard some sort of commotion. The noise was louder than the scurrying of rodents, thankfully. Yet it wasn't at that mayhem noise level I am most familiar with - that sort of noise usually involves earth-shaking crashes and snarls as my dog and three cats throw a post-steak dinner garbage party on the kitchen floor.

The somewhere-in-between noise ended up being my husband getting himself a snack. Actually, what I interrupted was the lovely sight of my spouse hunched over the kitchen counter with his fingers 2-knuckles deep in pasta leftovers. We had that Kodak frozen-in-time moment where we both paused and scoped each other out. 

It was an old-fashioned western gunfight. You could hear a pin drop. I shot first, thinking he didn't have much ammunition for this round.

"That's disgusting. Couldn't you use a plate?"

My husband brought the three-finger scoop of al dente penne noodles with tomato sauce to his mouth and chewed innocently.

"What?" he said. He actually looked offended as he waved his saucy fingers through the air. His wide-eyed, confused expression implied I had just made up a new household rule and no one had informed him. We've been together 24 years. Not a new rule.

"Other people might want to eat that. Don't you have a cold?"
He didn't answer, but instead gave me the wounded "why are you picking on me?" look.

I went to back to bed, making a mental note to not eat the pasta.

I'm mentioning this story so you don't think I'm completely crazy. My husband has been out of work for 6 weeks now and our house is a little small for the two of us 24/7. 

He is now home all day and is peeing frequently and IS REFUSING TO PUT THE TOILET SEAT DOWN. I get this is an age-old couples issue for almost every household. But I have a bad back and really don't want to fall in the toilet and cripple myself during one of my sleep-deprived bathroom breaks, is all. I'm actually a very easy person to live with. I remind my husband of that well-know fact all the time. All the time.

So I did what any reasonable person would do after reminding someone into the three-digits to kindly put the seat down. I duct-taped the seat down in the main bathroom, leaving the second bathroom open for boy business. It was effective for a solid 48-hours (he eventually pealed off the tape and resumed his leaving-the-seat-up behavior). The duct tape approach may have backfired, because now ANY request I make falls under the "just ignore her, she is crazy" category.

So. Not. Crazy.
Yet.