At Least the Worm Was Saved

Today was a rainy, windy, umbrella-buster of a day. The only good thing to come from the weather was the morale-boosting opportunity to save a stranded worm. 

(And then we stood there in the pelting rain while I deleted old pictures off my phone, so I could take the above-picture. The quality of pictures on this blog is not superior because I've tried hard to not make the picture-taking -- or this blog for that matter -- obtrusive, or activity-steering. Today, as the rain was slashing and my children were cowering, and I was like: slide-delete-try-to-take-the-picture-nope-back-to-photos-search-through-to-find-another-photo-I-don't need-slide-delete-repeat-process-like-ten-times-before-my-bloody-phone-would-register-that-there-was-some-cleared-memory... well, it felt obtrusive... and stupid.)

A Scandinavian Blessing; a Blessing From a Homeless Man -- Both Spot-on

Eight years ago a special girl-child was born. 

A cousin from Sweden came over a few months later and said, "When I look into her eyes I can tell that she has a special soul." Being as this was spoken by a beautiful European, I've always felt it to be gospel truth -- a sort of Norse blessing. 

This special soul went about today enthusiastically fulfilling her eight acts of service required by our family tradition (see here, here, and here). After stopping by Trader Joe's we were ready to go... The services were:

1. She selected some wholesome, non-perishable items and we found a homeless man that she handed the bag to. He was so sweet and said, "Have a good day," and then it was like a switch flipped, and his entire face lit up as he smiled the most enormous smile, and said, "Have a LOVELY day." He seemed so please that he had bestowed a "lovely" day upon us. We were just as pleased.  

2. We delivered a treat to a family we know who has sick teenagers. Last night she overheard the sister of the sick boys say that her brothers were craving ice cream because their throats have been sore. The Girl thought we should buy some chicken noodle soup, two tubs of ice cream, and a sweet little orchid to cheer them up. Of course ideally this would have been a doorbell-ditch/secret service, but we had to let them know that we were coming because of the fragile nature of ice cream, and because they live 20 blocks away and we didn't want to walk all the way there, and not have anybody attend to our buzzing... When we got there the mom not only popped out to give The Girl a big birthday hug, but also some candy. This evening when the family ate the ice cream we received a thank-you text that said very thoughtful things about The Birthday Girl. It's the little things...

3. A friend of ours that lives in the building has been away on a work assignment for over six weeks. She is returning on Saturday and the kids decided to decorate her door. We happened to have a Bruegel poster that, in true Bruegel style, shows a village scene with all kinds of silly antics happening. The kids sat at the table, and using labels to create little conversation bubbles they left all sorts of silly messages. Things like: "I got drunk because I'm so excited that [friend] is coming home!" (stuck by the man that is passed out and being carried). Ah. Good times. 

4. The Girl spent some time and a great deal of colored-pencil lead drawing a picture for the entire family.

5. The kids wrote chalk messages in the park. The Girl told The Boy that the messages were to be about saving animals... He interpreted that as: "Belive in Bigfoot," etc.

6. Lots of soggy (it rained heavily last night) trash was picked up in the park.

7. The animals in the petting zoo were loved and fed.

8. We brought extra quarters to the petting zoo because she wanted to give them to kids who might want to feed the animals, but didn't have the means to buy the food (we've been in that boat before). There weren't any candidates, so The Girl came up to me with twinkling eyes and said, "I'm just going to put the quarters in the machine, so it will be a secret service!" She stealthily went over and put the quarters in, and then returned to pet the matted sheep. A couple of minutes later from across the way we heard The Boy shout: "Hey guys! Guess what I just found?!" 

The zoo WAS lovely. The trees are blooming, it wasn't crowded, and we were there when the clock was chiming. 

9. Bonus: walking back through the park we heard bagpipes. We followed the sound to the Balto statue, where a man was standing and blowing for all he was worth. I whispered to The Girl that these were birthday bagpipes. She and The Boy each put a dollar in the "hat" to let the piper know that while some don't appreciate the beauty of the controlled wheezing and moaning, we are not them. He would have earned himself an extra dollar if he'd sprung for the kilt. 

The bagpiping was just one of many cosmic birthday gifts. Things like the red panda, who is often asleep, being active, and the penguin who came up and about kissed the glass in front of The Birthday Girl's face. Within the park there was an additional gift: the Sheep Meadow has finally been opened. First the kids ran, and then they rolled. And then we noticed all the poop from the birds/animals who have been allowed to hang out all winter without humans scaring them away... 

She went to her pottery class ("I'm so lucky my favorite thing is on my birthday!"), and then The Dad met us and we went to dinner. When we got home we had sundaes and she opened her gifts. The Sister wrapped hers in newspaper and then painted sweet pictures on the front. This inspired The Boy, so he also wrapped his creatively. He made her pottery tools by decorating skewers and putting them in a fabric pouch that he sewed with the sewing machine, and a mini pottery wheel (out of clay), so she can take it along when she travels. He wrapped the skewers to look like a candy bar, and the mini pottery wheel to look like a tea cup (think: swan made out of tinfoil to bring left-overs home from restaurants). 

The entire day had a feeling of warmth, and creativity, and thoughtfulness. She did an earnest job with her services -- and hopefully has been reminded that the world is better (people's lives are better/animals (and Bigfoot) are more secure), because she was born. Today was about as lovely as a day can get. And I'm convinced more, with every passing year, that she has a special soul. 

Bribery

When people find out that we're homeschooling one of the most common questions is: How do you keep them on task?  Let's just leave it at: some days are better than others (she says with candor). I have had no qualms with using a "system of positive earning" (a.k.a. bribing). 

One example is our "chicken points" and "puppy points" charts. 

It's not a very sophisticated system -- if the kid worked hard, or was pleasant, or whatever he/she got to put a mark by one of the pictures. We were going for a blackout. Points could not be taken away -- that stinks. Just because you're being a twerp now doesn't take away the good work you did earlier -- they are totally separate instances. 

The other day the kids completed their charts. It was time to give them the reward that we had agreed upon a couple of months ago when we started: a trip to the Scholastic store to pick out a book, and then a Georgetown Cupcake. 

I've definitively decided two things: 1. I don't really care for the Scholastic store -- the only thing it really has going for it on the retail level is the education resources. And The Magic School bus options (I tried to stay clear of the the bandwagon-bus -- the graphics make me feel one gnat-step away from ick --  but Miss Frizzle has beguiled me... she teaches me stuff I didn't know that I didn't know). We spent a lot of time in Scholastic's fiction section today, and the selection is pretty much crap. I get that every company is about making a profit, but the quantity of the subpar series, and series-knock-offs is really too much. I love being at Bank Street Bookstore and hearing the employees offering suggestions based on the tone, or the humor, or the historical significance. They offer books of substance that can be discussed in great depth afterwards, not the brain-candy that makes up probably seventy-percent of Scholastic's fiction offerings. 2. Georgetown Cupcakes are my favorite. We were in Georgetown recently and saw the line stretching for blocks -- I felt like telling everybody queued up: it will be faster for you to drive to NYC. 

Since we were in the neighborhood, and Soho is so enjoyable during an off-time, we stopped by one of the kids' favorite stores: Evolution. 

Did you notice the eggs? I hadn't thought before how the decorated Ukrainian eggs fit into the curiosity shop mold that my kids (specifically The Boy) are into, but now I see that it's all in the same sphere. I'm glad that they earned their trip downtown. It was awesome. 

April 9th is a Special Day

Things have started to sprout in our greenhouse! Tender, sweet small shoots and unblemished, crisp little leaves. I wonder if bringing a garden to fruition helps appease control issues that are such a part of growing up. The power to nurture or neglect. 

The children have a grandmother who is very attentive to living things. They speak to her on the phone almost every Sunday, and she will listen forever to the prattling that is about as organized as a planet explosion. When my kids are around her she thrills in their individuality, and makes an authentic effort to get to know what makes them tick. 

Her birthday is April 9th, and we decided that as a nod to Spring, and the success of our garden, and her ability to keep lovely plants and flowers inside and outside her pretty cottage of a home we would do a plant theme. One child drew a picture of our greenhouse, the other of an enchanted garden.  

We talked about Grandma and what it is that makes her wonderful, in essence, what it is about her that contributes to the fertile soil that is helping her grandchildren grow. Here are some quotes:

She plants herbs.
She let's us raid her pantry.
She is fun. 
She tells good stories.
Her favorite colors -- green and blue -- are some of my favorite colors.
She goes on walks with us. One really hard hike. And she did it!
She looks good in a striped shirt. 
She makes good spaghetti.
Her house is pretty -- with no junky stuff. 
She tries to eat healthy. 
She has a birdcage in the garden with a bird in it. 
She goes to church. 
She respects chickens. 
She prepares her whole house before we come. 
Her watch is cool. 
Her hairstyle is right. 
She makes us feel really, really special. 
We like how she smells.
She's fair. 


In 1915 Robert Frost published "A Prayer in Spring." The first stanza reads:

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

I think that this perspective is one of the greatest gifts that my mother-in-law gives to my children: she teaches them to appreciate, and be grateful for, and be present in the moment. In this moment we are talking on the phone. In this moment we are enjoying our meal together. In this moment we have each other, and all is well.

The Red Coats Are Going

He was a legend in the art department of the university where I went to school. He was loud, rude, and obnoxious. Yet, all of that was overlooked for three reasons: he was brilliant, he was dedicated, and he was born and raised in New York City. Being as that last one wasn't anything he worked for it shouldn't have counted... but it might have been what allowed the other two to be counted at all. There's something about being from NYC that makes some people feel inclined to hand you a stack of "free pass" tokens. Perhaps that's one reason why locals get so pissy when the pedicab drivers address them as tourists -- they feel stripped of their street cred. 

I've tried to take it with good humor this year every time we get accosted: "Hey, I'll take you around the park for half-price." After all, I understand why we look like tourists: 1) the kids aren't in school during school hours 2) The Girl has a pair of running shoes that she likes to wear regardless of the outfit 3) the very not-cool, not-urban matching red coats. 

The red coats. I bought them because they were on sale at a good company. I appreciated them because they have an insert that can be zipped out, so it's a fleece and winter coat in one. I considered them because of a story that that very NYC art professor told us in class once:

He started his teaching career as a young elementary school teacher in Brooklyn. One day he decided to take his class into sketchy midtown Manhattan to explore art at the MOMA. This wasn't the stroller-packed-cupcake-shop city that we live in now -- this was NYC in the 70's. And it wasn't just about wandering Manhattan... it was two transfers on a subway system that -- at this time -- conjured up images akin to somebody shooting up on a stained box-spring. He didn't take any parent chaperones along -- it was just him and the kids and he made something very clear to them: "I will not be watching you. I wore my red coat today. It is your job to make sure that you can always see my red coat." I think he got the reaction he was expecting: we were all somewhere on the incredulous/shocked/horrified-spectrum as he concluded his story: "I took 25 third-graders into the city, and I returned home that night with 25 third-graders who had seen Starry Night and Monet's lilies." 

Often when I see red coats in the city the flash of a young, brash elementary school teacher comes to mind -- saying: my job is to lead you to the art; it's your job to take care of yourself. 

I'm not fabulous about that. I like my kids close, not just so I can hear them and talk to them, but also so that I can snatch them out of harm's way. But I knew that a goal of the scheme was to let out some yardage on the tether. To let them know that I know that they are capable, and they have responsibilities. I have a role, but it's not an omnipotent one. 

This year the red coats made it very easy for me to spot them during all of our excursions -- as their area of exploration broadened and deepened. 

Today, during a walk through the park I realized: we might not be bringing the coats out again this year. 

Fall came and went, as did Winter. We have Spring now. Within the week I will submit the third quarterly report to the Office of Home Schooling. I'm happy that the kids got to spend a couple of hours at the park instead of inside a building that smells of musty lunch boxes and feet.