For me, the most alarming part of last night was waking up suddenly while being repeatedly kicked in my side. The kids asked if they could sleep with us since the windows were trembling, and so here we were in the wee hours and The Girl was like a hound dog snoozing on the hearth rhythmically kicking away while dreaming.
We woke up this morning to sun coming through the blinds. We were fortunate. We have read about the damage and sadness that the storm brought to many. We have talked a lot about the professionals that have been using their knowledge and skills to minimize the impact. We have a straight view from our living room window of the crane that has been dangling precariously -- surely men and women have been working around the clock to figure out what to do with it... all of those resources, and when the big picture is looked at, that is just one small detail of the storm's touch. The kids heard The Dad talking, as he had to help make decisions for his work that would ensure the safety of employees... so many moments all working together, or parallel, or in tandem when something big happens. Though, I guess that's what life just kind of is everyday, but big events demonstrate it more clearly.
The parks are all closed and we've been told that tree limbs could still come down anywhere that there are trees, so going outside should be done judiciously. We decided to go on a tiny walk just around Lincoln Center, so as to avoid us clawing each other's eyeballs out. Mostly what we discovered was that the leaves -- especially those that were gold or red or purple or orange -- were all blown off the trees.
The kids know that the public school children are still not back in school (and won't be tomorrow), so there has been some resistance to "work." I tried to make it fun by having a spooky story writing contest, and working with summarizing skills via Halloween picture books... But everything was a tad flat.
We started our "Militant Math" unit. I introduced the concept of brainwashing -- how often it's done with repetition... and that however wrong I might be, I still think that certain things just need to be memorized. To that end, they each got to make themselves an armband, and now when I ask them to put their armbands on we stand and recite some of our multiplication/division facts. Hopefully the satire will help them swallow the tedium pill.
It doesn't really feel like Halloween is still in front of us. Whether it's because we had a couple of parties on Saturday and the costumes have already lost their shine, or because we actually had something truly frightening in our midst I'm not sure... but we will try to muster one more day of Halloween spirit. Today we put together our little cardboard haunted house -- it was an important lesson called: Why We Don't Throw Away Directions.
One last note about our recent curriculum. While having our Brady Bunch marathon there was a scene when the always-strapping Mike Brady walked through the kids' rooms and made sure each sleeping child was properly tucked in.
"Do you do that for us?" The Girl asked.
"Yes."
"Really?" Judd the Red Chicken returned.
They looked at each other with stars in their eyes.
How this could come as such a revelation, when many times we have little conversations because one or the other is still awake when I go in, is beyond me, but for some reason seeing it from the outside looked different to them. Tonight as they were getting ready for bed they again made references to being checked on. So much of the small, daily, services that we do as parents -- even if they seem so obvious -- are totally unnoticed. Blessed be the Brady's for bringing a small moment of attention to their attention, because, having now discovered it, they are thrilled.
Thank you to those of you who checked in on us last night and today -- it hasn't gone unnoticed.
