For about 1/10 of a second around Christmas we considered considering whether we should consider getting a dog. Not because we want one. Not because we think having a dog is a particularly good idea when we don't have a yard and would be going down and up and out and about four to five times a day regardless of the weather, or time, or life. Nor does it seem like a particularly brilliant idea when one considers that we have some allergy issues here with one kid whose skin breaks out if she looks at certain foods, hears certain music, or senses certain vibrations, and one kid with asthma. However, there was that 1/10 of a second. Because our daughter is so desperately, purely in love with dogs. Her entire being aches to have a dog. Also, I feel like our other kid has such an enormous personality it would probably be nice for her to have something calm and soothing and all about her.
The 1/10 of a second passed. Practically and pragmatically speaking, it had to. But I did commit to finding some opportunities for her to get some animal time. My research yielded a free program called Caring Kids at Animal Haven -- an animal shelter by Little Italy. So down we schlepped late this afternoon.
Judd the Red Chicken was having a slightly bad attitude about it, but apologized when we settled onto our folding chairs and up on the screen he saw that the topic of today's workshop was "Animal Cops: Humane Investigation."
We were put into groups and the educator taught us how important it is to call in when we see an animal being neglected. First we learned what "neglect" means (not providing basic needs: food/water, shelter, medical care), then we saw pictures and had to write in our notebooks what the clues were that the animal was being neglected. We even worked with a chart that showed body conditioning -- what it looks like when a dog is too thin (or too fat -- the truly obese are often being neglected in that they are getting human garbage as opposed to actual dog food). The next part was learning what information should be noted before making the call (the signs of neglect -- i.e. chain can't reach shelter, no food or water dishes, outside in the elements, etc.), description of the animal (in case there are multiple animals at the location), and the location.
The workshop definitely hit a goal of empowering the children. It was like: you have been properly educated; you have the power to effectively help an animal in distress. It was pretty cool.
Further, I was happy that my kids successfully passed the social agility test. As best that I could ascertain the other workshop attendees seemed to fit the profile of awesome-tribecca/soho/village-specialized-schoolers, and yet my humble homeschooled moppets held their own. Their answers were insightful -- one of my offspring knocked it out of the freakin' park by bringing in a book reference. When we were asked to define "neglect" one of the attendees was kind of dancing more around "abuse" and my kid was like: "Maybe it's more like The One and Only Ivan -- when the animals weren't given proper food and space." Wham! Even cooler, he said it gently -- so as not to imply that the other kid was "wrong." Also, my other offspring mentioned on the way home that "even if you think you know all the answers, you don't have to raise your hand every single time." I honestly don't write this to highlight that my kids are awesome (there's really no need since my readership = my mother-in-law... I'm preaching to the choir), but I feel compelled to document that the year isn't turning them into socially inept jerks. Within the last day I got the privilege of hearing somebody share her opinion on how homeschoolers (said in a stage whisper) are all "permanently socially damaged" and "unable to function in the world." Woof. Bigotry is alive and well.
Anywho, at the end of the hour a visitor -- one of the dogs looking for a "forever home" -- comes into the room and the children get to meet him/her. When that moment came I think my girl vaulted over all the other children/parents/folding chairs in a single swift movement. She was next to me, and I blinked, and somehow she was in the back of the room and planted in the greeting circle. A lot of ground can be covered in 1/10 of a second.
The Queen of England was homeschooled.
I decided to take my own tip from yesterday's post and accept the fact that the academic acumen of my entire generation is largely dependent on the resources we glean from the internet. And so to YouTube we trotted. Whilst working on other math skills we are also trying to figure out Roman Numerals. After looking at a few boring clips, we hit the mother load with this beauty. The kids thought it was so funny that they watched it several times and are in the process of creating their own video with the higher numerals. The Girl has been writing the theme song ("The Birds of Math" -- with lyrics like: "X starlings they were perching... XX owls they were sleeping... L hawks they were diving... C pigeons they were walking... D geese they were preening... M falcons they were soaring..."), Judd the Red Chicken listened to various karaoke/back-up music options to buy for 99 cents on iTunes that he could set the song to. He stood by the computer and swiveled his hips around before deciding what song would work best (Frankie Valli's "Big Girls Don't Cry" sans vocals is what made the cut). He also completely ticked off the song writer by telling her "It's great, I'll use some of the material." To which she replied: "Some of the material? SOME? I about broke my hand writing all of that..." (it is over three pages long). Ahhh... these artistic geniuses... Should be gr-VIII!
It was my turn to go under the drill today for phase one of the marathon dental plan, so The Dad took the kiddos on a nature hike through Central Park to gain the edge on one of the Junior Ranger programs that we'll be doing on our next trip. The man has laser-like focus.
For whatever patch they are working towards they also needed to design a flag.
The Girl's:
And The Boy's:
We read out loud a lot. Car trips, Sunday afternoons, almost every night. It's where a lot of our inside jokes and shared history comes from. It's a calm, connecting time. This week we finished reading An Elephant in the Garden by Michael Morpurgo (the same author as War Horse).
The Girl loved that an elephant -- with twitching ears, wise eyes, and an ability to communicate contentedness via throat rumblings -- was valued as highly as any other member of the family.
The Boy loved that it was set during WWII. That Spitfires, Lancasters, compasses, and historical references were peppered throughout.
I appreciated that by writing about the bombing of Dresden, specifically -- and calling war out to stand naked with just its socks on, in general -- the book was a preparatory text for Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five (which I recently reread for the 50th time in order to facilitate a book club discussion). While Vonnegut's book won't be required reading around here for a few more years, I like to think a foundation has been started. Never too early to start prepping for Kurt.
Today we went to listen to the Gotham Jazzmen, and as I sat there amongst the insulin pumps and help-I've-fallen-and-can't-get-up bracelets I felt well and safe. I love the music, I love the friends that attend (jazz knowers who nod appreciatively when certain songs are announced), and I love that my kids are being reminded about what makes a person relevant. And I realized that that's another reason why I liked Morpurgo's book: the structure is an elderly woman telling her story to a nine-year old boy. That theme of valuable exchanges happening between the young and the old resonates strongly with me.
Here is a nice little companion article for the book -- the very news story that Morpurgo heard (a zookeeper having an elephant in her backyard during the war) that inspired the idea for the book. Hearing about these magic seeds makes life seem so exciting -- like at any moment we might see or hear something that with proper care can grow into something else wonderful.
Also, Marlene Dietrich is mentioned in the book (in fact, the elephant is named Marlene after her) -- here is a clip of her singing with stills of her during WWII.
(Our generation might have slobbier clothes, less-talented musicians, and a lack of depth from not having lived through a world war, but dagnabbit we have the internet!)
Yes, that is yet another Christmas tree. When does it end? This Saturday we went to Saint John the Divine and while we were there a tour guide explained their tree o' cranes: "There is a belief that if you create 1,000 cranes it's good luck and you get to make a wish. We decided to make a crane tree this year and call it our Peace Tree -- for our wish is that there can be world peace." Cue inspiring organ chords.
At this point my son raised his hand and asked: "Are there 1,000 cranes there?" As a parent I was like: sigh. Obviously there's 1,000 cranes -- she just said that.
"Actually. No. We stopped around 750. We thought that if any more were put on it wouldn't look right."
Dolt?!?
Judd the Red Chicken looked back at me with a baffled look and shrugged.
So. I've been thinking about this. If we don't have world peace this year, I totally know who to blame. The chump at Saint John's who decided that aesthetics and/or carpal tunnel somehow trumps all. I mean, do they get the cosmic credit because of the intent? Or does an arbitrary rule have to be strictly adhered to? After all, if you don't cut the cosmic mustard...
Today was a random day. The Boy coughed until late last night, so the kids slept in. We've been reading a book that they wanted to finish, so we lounged around on the couch and I read away. And then we had a dreaded appointment at the dentist. My little one had to go under the drill and in addition to the pain and discomfort it caused her, it seriously made me tight and anxious to watch it. The dentist was great and fast. I really did try to remain calm and soothing -- channeling Florence and Clara and Mother Teresa -- but at one point I about upset my stool in a panic when The Girl sounded like she was choking and her eyes had a crazed animal look. Ugh.
Well, that was enough energy output. With math and piano done, the rest of the day was a wash. (Other than a sweet, short little trip to the petting zoo after collecting a friend finally home from school.)
Question: if the tour guide had said: There are only 750 cranes on the tree, but in order to make it to 1,000 we had the intern whip up the other 250, and they are sitting in a box in the office... That should work, right?
Because I'm thinking that Saturday kind of makes up for our dithering about today.
We went to Saint John the Divine's to participate in their Camels and Kings workshop. We started on the beautiful main level where, in addition to the tree, we looked at their nativity and discussed the medallion on the floor. The educator explained that the medallions on the floor are a medieval tradition -- from the time when most worshippers were not literate and pictures and symbols were used. The medallion we looked at had three crowns and a star that pointed to two flours de lis -- which represent Mary. While I was musing on the weight given to Mary and the wise men (I don't begrudge them -- I'm just used to a more Christ-heavy take) one of my kids made a reference to the importance of the wise men choosing to take a different path -- using their agency to NOT go back to Herod. I'm pretty sure that insight came from the book The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.
Apparently there was a big going-away shindig for a bishop, so after the educator made the very funny quip, "We need to be aware, so as not to be run over by a bunch of priests," we went down to the dungeons where the art workshops are. The children made king-like costumes, crowns (The Girl glued tear-drop shaped pearls together to make eggs... to put in the nest that she and The Dad made for the top of hers), and boxes to hold presents (I was gifted a diamond ring!). The two kings (and their lowly folks) walked around the grounds afterwards and happily said hullo! to the peacocks that live there year-round.
But that's not all we did on Saturday. We also drove up to the Bronx to try to find a Three Kings Day celebration at an elementary school. The celebration did not come to fruition, but the drive was totally worthwhile because we were all entranced by a Radiolab segment about the minds of animals. Would life be worth living without NPR?
After lunch (Dino BBQ) we headed south to a place that I did not know existed before a friend at church gifted us some tickets -- the Japan Society. We saw the Silver Wind exhibit, and it was truly beautiful. Perhaps my favorite part was the new skill that a security guard passed on to my kids. As we walked past her I made some random (read: lame) joke and she took pity on my kids. She came over and asked them if they wanted to see something interesting? She proceeded to lead them around to the different pieces of art and say things like: look right here -- do you see the face in the water? Stand right here -- if the tree is his nose, do you see the man? She did this with four or five different pieces and my kids were hooked. For the rest of the time they were like: I see shoes! This looks like a face! Here's a bird! Their attentiveness to the lines and shapes was surely valuable.
The space that the Japan Society is in is lovely. Definitely worth knowing about and watching the calendar for exhibits and performances.
So there you have it. Our extra cranes that we store up for the days when we run a bit short. For those who believe that a specific amount of paper equals a specific outcome.
