ImPerceptibility

Archive for the ‘Youngest’ Category

This choice was made under a tree last month.  I waited to be sure it was true.  It is and it is right. I’ll miss ImPerceptibility but mostly I’ll miss you.  Take care.

Goodbye Stranger

It was an early morning yesterday
I was up before the dawn
And I really have enjoyed my stay
But I must be moving on

Like a king without a castle
Like a queen without a throne
I’m an early morning lover
And I must be moving on

Now I believe in what you say
As the undisputed truth
But I have to have things my own way
To keep me in my youth

Like a ship without an anchor
Like a slave without a chain
Just the thought of those sweet ladies
Sends a shiver through my veins

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I’ll never look behind me
My troubles will be few

(Goodbye stranger it’s been nice)
(Hope you find your paradise)
(Tried to see your point of view)
(Hope your dreams will all come true)
(Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane)
(Will we ever meet again)
(Feel no sorrow, feel no shame)
(Come tomorrow, feel no pain)

Sweet devotion,
It’s not for me
Just give me motion,
To set me free
Land in the ocean,
Far away
By my chosen
Every day

So Goodbye Mary,
Goodbye Jane
Will we ever
Meet again

Now some they do and some they don’t
And some you just can’t tell
And some they will and some they won’t
With some it’s just as well

You can laugh at my behavior
That’ll never bother me
Say the devil is my savior
But I don’t pay no heed

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I’ll never look behind me
My troubles will be few

(Goodbye stranger it’s been nice)
(Hope you find your paradise)
(Tried to see your point of view)
(Hope your dreams will all come true)
(Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane)
(Will we ever meet again)
(Feel no sorrow, feel no shame)
(Come tomorrow, feel no pain)

Sweet devotion,
It’s not for me
Just give me motion,
To set me free
Land in the ocean,
Far away
By my chosen,
Every day

Now I’m leaving,
Got to go,
Hit the road
I’m sayin’ once again,
oh yes I’m leaving
Got to go,
Got to go.
I’m sorry another day
But Goodbye Mary,
Goodbye Jane
Will we ever
Meet again

Oh I’m leavin’
I’ve got to go

Sometime I wish I had a camera in my eyes. Then I could save all those funny little things that just seem to happen when you least expect it. Maybe a video camera would be nice as well. I could push my nose to snap a picture and maybe pull my ear to start videotaping. I haven’t figured out how I’m going to download or playback the images but that might be a good thing.

If this was possible I would have a video of my youngest when she was about five. She was wearing a purple velvet dress and her hair was still long and all over the place as always. She ran ahead of me and stopped in front of the automatic doors at Target. She waved her hands in circles above her head and spoke silly made up words. With a dramatic flourish she lunged forward and the door open, as if by magic, and she walked in head held high and confident.

I don’t know what was going on in her head or for how long she had been planning this. I don’t know when she figured out exactly where she needed to stand so a single large step would trigger the motion sensors. I don’t know how she ever thought up this little bit of awesomeness that I have to expect from my youngest but she did it and it was grand. Then it was over. She went about her business as if it never happened and only my mommy smile gave any indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened. I don’t think we ever even talked about it. But I decided right then and there that no matter how long I lived that was something I wanted to remember for the rest of my life. That was when I started to want eye cameras. Instead I have this and my memories. It will do for now.

Today Youngest learned to spell 25 spelling words. We have been doing this almost every “school” day since September. Last Friday she reached day 100 and we celebrated with ice cream. Learning to spell 2500 words in 6 months is quite an accomplishment. She accomplished this because she wanted too. We talked about what was important and learning to spell was one of those things. She likes to write stories and put them on my fridge. Misspelled words make her look bad.

Then she practiced writing in cursive. There were no tears, no do I have to, and no fooling around. She did it because she wants to learn to write pretty. She likes how I use fancy letters to address letters and packages. It’s important to her.

Then we did some math. Previously we were working on multiplication but it was starting to stress her out so we switched to Geometry. I asked her to try multiplication again because it was important and she agreed once I gave her a small printed multiplication chart to find the answers. Maybe some would disagree, but this is how she learned her addition tables. After awhile it becomes easier to just memorize them then always look them up. There is no time limit on learning in this house and I don’t do tears when it come to Math. Math is fun. Math happens when it’s supposed to and not a moment earlier.

A very noisy blue jay interrupted what was to be a really cool science lesson. She ran around the yard and found his nest. Then she looked through a bird book and found the page on blue jays. She spent quite awhile watching him and studying him. She know knows more about blue jays than most college graduates. She can even imitate his song.

Then we did Science (again). Mark Hauser – Learning about animal minds. She balked at first but once I managed to draw her in she was all for it. She is observing and conducting safe experiments with her cat. She is sure the cat understands quantity and it’s possible that red is his favorite color. I expect a full write up of the results will be posted on the fridge soon. But that is totally up to her.

Then she read a story about Pandas and made a list of endangered animals in her “Book of Notes”. There are many interesting things in there. She added her panda book to the stack of books in her room. She is trying to read enough books so that the stack reached the ceiling. She’s reached about three feet so far.

All of this happened in just under two hours. All of this happened because she was ready and willing to learn. She enjoys a challenge and will work towards something that is important to her. She hasn’t even turned on the TV today and neither have I. That’s true with most mornings. That’s why we never got the chance to laugh at that Good Morning America segment about Unschooling. They just don’t understand. All children are not meant to be be corporate slaves and bean counters. Some of us can think and do for ourselves.

Describe the route Taylor would take if she walked to school.

It was one of those basic question you find in a elementary school Geography book. I glanced at it and thought, “Walk east on elm. Turn right on Main and keep going until you see the school” That was the answer. Or was it?

It seems that my youngest had other ideas. First she got one of her Polly dolls and put her beside the house marked Taylor’s home. Then the doll kissed her parents goodbye and started off to school. She skipped through the back yard stopping to sing some weird technoish-rap song to entice a kitten down from the tree. It worked. Then she zig-zagged through the park. She dropped her books at the corner of Elk Street but an off-duty police officer helped her pick them up. She had to wait quite a while for the traffic on Main street to slow down enough for her to cross. I’m proud to announce she did remember to look both ways. She stopped by the library to get a book to study. Dad called her and asked her to pick up some bolts at the hardware store. Then finally, she got to school.

I sat and listened to the whole story. I do appreciate her imagination but sometimes I just want to get things done. Hoping to get her to focus I asked her what the most direct route to school would be. She looked at me confused for a second.

“You mean she’s running late!” she shouts.

“Yes” I said and giggled.

“You should have told me that before she left home. Let’s start over!”

“Okay! Lets start over. Get the girl to school, she’s late!”

She starts making engine sounds. Then a helicopter comes and drops a ladder. The doll climbs up to the cockpit and they race straight to the school. She parachuted safe and sound onto the school grounds. There were even a few minutes left over to play on the playground before the bell rang.

I just had to smile. It’s good to be reminded why I don’t send her to school. With prices these days, gas for the helicopter would cost us a small fortune!

One of my pet peeves is when people dumb down what they are talking about when they talk to little children. This irritates me the most when they talk about science topics. Sure you can simplify the explanation but why not use proper scientific terms? Why teach them one name and re-teach them the correct name a few years later. Honestly, when your four-year-old falls down and asks Grandma if she thinks her patella is cracked, you’ll appreciate the effort.

When my youngest was little she asked me about the parts of a flower I told her the proper names. Stigma, pistol, stamen, anther, sepal, ovary. Why not? She was curious and she’d learn it one day. No day like the present. So, when she was reading the children’s menu out loud at a local restaurant I got a little irritated when it called the flower parts “male parts” and “female parts” Why didn’t they just name the parts?

“Male and female part?” I questioned her. “What are they called for real?”

She looked at me and told me the the female part was the stigma. I smiled. What are male parts called I asked with a smirk on my face. No one was gonna dumb down my kid.

She thought about it for a minute then a flash of memory came across her face. I waited anxiously for the response.

“Male parts are called the penis!” she said loudly, excited that she remembered.

A few heads turned and I turned red.

They are, Mom! Male parts are called the penis!

Yeah, I taught her that too. What was I thinking?

“Hey! Who wants ice cream for dessert!” I shouted.

We’re not a religious family and we don’t thank God for our meals. We’re thankful for what we have but we tend to give thanks to a more tangible source. However, most of my family is religious and they pray before meals. When the kids were small we never worried about it. I would either inconspicuously, or if I was feeling hostile noticeably, miss the blessing. Other times I would give the kids a roll to chew on until they were done praising the lord for every little thing and hope they didn’t get brainwashed before it was over. When the kids were little I had a much stronger need to distance myself, and them, from religion. I grew up with that stuff and I didn’t want them drawn into it.

I realized my approach was wrong one day when when my youngest was about three. We were standing around while my brother said grace and when it was finished, just as everyone was about to say amen, she sat up real straight and shouted “I’m mad!” If you say that with a slight southern accent you’ll get why she said that. She thought that was what everyone was saying. It was funny and we all laughed but I knew ignoring religion wasn’t going to be the best approach.

I wasn’t an educational anarchist yet, but I was well on my way. We started with Greek Mythology, threw in some Native American Myths, rounded it out with Celtic and Norse Gods. I think we threw in a bit of Egyptian beliefs. By the time we got to Christian fables a few years later, they had no problem understanding exactly what I wanted them to understand. I felt a lot better about my choices as well.

One of Oldest’s friends was over last week and she told her that her mom said not to talk about religion with her friends because everyone doesn’t believe in the same thing. I’ve told my kids almost the same thing. I think that sucks. I tell my kids that everyone has right to believe in whatever they feel is best for them, unfortunately so many people around here don’t feel the same way. My resentfulness and anger is returning.

My youngest told me that she just pretends she believes what her friends believe because she doesn’t want to fight with them. My oldest gets in arguments because people get frustrated when she matter-of-factly states that she doesn’t believe that. I’m just sitting here alternating between “Fuck ‘em all”, “Why, oh, why can’t we just get along”, and “Let it be. They’re smart kids and they’ll work it out”.

I’m not sure what to do, if anything. In the mean time, I have some books about evolution and world religions on hold at the library. I’ll pick them up Friday.

Mommy that hobo is pathetic.

That’s what my daughter told me a few nights ago. I was expecting her to be sad. Her tender and loving heart hurt by the thought of someone with so little that they had to stand in front of the mall and beg passing cars for change.

You see, she’s the kid that picks worms up out of the road and puts them back in the garden after it rains because she doesn’t want them to die in the sun. She checks the SPCA page every few months to make sure the pets have been adopted. I buy icee pops in bulk because she makes sure everyone in the neighborhood has an icee pop on hot days. She doesn’t want anyone to feel left out. She’s my baby and I love her ability to look at a situation and decide what needs to be done to make it better.

“Absolutely pathetic!” she continued with a hint of contempt in her voice. Myhusband and I looked at each other questioningly as she continued.

Does he really think I’m going to fall for that?

First: He has a printed sign. It was printed on a computer and it’s in a plastic report cover. Hobos have to scrounge through the restaurant trash and find a crayon then write a handwritten sign on a piece of cardboard.

Second: He has a brand new backpack. It’s nicer than mine.

Third : You never see hobos walking on this road he must drive from somewhere and park in the parking lot. How did he buy a car if he’s a hobo?

Fourth : He has new shoes.

Fifth: He’s not hungry because he’s fat!

I was a little stunned and instead of looking in the other direction I looked at the man she was so harshly judging. I must say, I think she’s right.

I’ve wondered about the men that stand at the light in front of the mall. They are always there. I’ve wondered if they have a schedule to determine who works when.

We put money in the tip jars even if we only got a lemonade. We drop bills in the hat of street musicians. We give food and money to local food banks. I once threw a $20 bill behind an old man that couldn’t pay for his groceries at the checkout and insisted that I had seen it fall out of his pocket. But I’ve never given a dime to the hobos in front of the mall. I doubt I will.

Today my daughter told me she had seen the hobo from the mall texting someone on his cell phone. He had a Starbucks cup sitting beside him. I had to giggle. She shook her head.

Pathetic! I said and she giggled back.

Come on guys. If you want our money you need to do better than that! Get an old hat. Maybe a harmonica or somethin’. Buy your coffee from 7-11. Stop carrying around $100 backpacks. You have a reputation to uphold and you are making my child jaded. I expect better!

I turned the page to the next blank page in my pad of paper and found this. 

I was already having a good day and this made it just a little better.  I have no idea when this was drawn but it was definitely done by my youngest.  Aren’t surprises great.

It's an orange that looks like a pear.

Today my youngest made me stop in the middle of the grocery store and take a picture of this.  It’s an orange, but it’s shaped like a pear.  This is apparently really funny if you are nine.  Just thought you should know.