Observation #45,362: Pre-lit Christmas trees that don’t light make for unhappy dads and impatient kids.
Oh Christmas Tree
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Monthly Archives: November 2017
The “D” Word
Jack (pointing at Cubmaster Dan Colpi): I know that guy. He ate a worms and crickets at Ryan’s meeting!
Me: Yep, he did!
Jack: Mom, why would he eat worms and crickets?
Me: Because his Boy Scout Pack hit a goal with their popcorn sales.
Jack: Ryan sold popcorn? Holy Crap!!
Me: Well, Ryan didn’t sell this year, but where did you learn “Holy Crap?”
Jack (casually): Oh, there’s a kid at school who teaches me bad words. He taught me the “s” word, the “d” word, and the “f” word.
Me: Hmm, what’s the “d” word?
Jack: I already told you! “Holy Crap!!” “Holy Crap!”
Me: Ooooh… hmmm. Well, it’s not a nice word. Maybe you should tell your friend to teach you nice words.
Jack: (In the backseat working on his “h” sound). Well, now that I think of it, I am not sure why we call it the “d” word when it doesn’t start with “d.” That’s dumb!
The fighter
This picture was taken a few days after Emma was born. In a state of shock after delivering a 1 lb 12 oz baby, I was afraid to look at her and certainly didn’t want to hold her. It was like my maternal instincts hadn’t kicked in yet— the wires, the masks, the tubes were so intimidating. Sadly, I didn’t know my baby at all— I was so thankful the NICU nurses knew her rhythms and helped me learn what she was all about. And I was so grateful that my whisper, quietly echoing against the walls of the incubator, was enough to sooth her in those early rough days. All these years later, 11 to be exact, I am still a student of a fighting micro preemie and the nurses who taught me so much. Happy Birthday, kid!
God Bless Elementary Teachers Everywhere
I wasn’t cut out for this. I wasn’t cut out for this….
I can be pretty impulsive, so when my almost five-year-old, not quite ready for Kindergarten, expressed an interest in learning to read, I jumped on it. Homeschool curriculum purchased, I finally had the time and was ready to teach my last child to read!
We’re on day 59, and though the connections are finally being made, we hit an impasse today…
Me: Jack, let’s look at the picture. What is going on in this picture?
Jack: The girl is feeding those stinky animals.
Me: OK, let’s sound out those words.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feeeeeeds theeeee chickens.
Me: Not quite. Let’s try again. Use your finger to point to the words.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn is feeeeeeding theeeee chickens.
Me: Are you sure that last word is chicken?
Jack: That’s what it looks like.
Me: Well, this picture is deceiving, Jack. Let’s sound out the last word.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn is feeeeeeding theeeee chickens.
Me: Jack, there’s only four words, and here’s a hint– the last one isn’t chickens.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feeeeeds theeeee chickens.
Me: Jack, it’s past tense. Let’s pretend it happened yesterday.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feddd theeeee chickens.
Me: Great correction. Ok, let’s ignore the picture. Let’s just sound out the last word.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn is feeeeeeding theeeee chickens.
I literally smack my forehead and Jack starts laughing uncontrollably.
—(a half hour has passed, I have planned next week’s lessons and am considering a beer at this point)–
Me: Are you ready to stop laughing and get these four words down? I am not asking you to pretend you know the words. I want you to sound out the words on the page. And by now you should know “Jan” and “the,” so you don’t have to sound those out. You can do this– there are only four words.
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feddd theeeee chickens.
Me: Are you sure that last word is chickens?
Jack: Hhheeeennns.
Me: YES!!! Put it all together now!
Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feddd theeeee chickens.
(HEADSMACK)
Trucker Salute
Back in the olden days, when Paul and I were dating, he drove a Jeep. We’d drive around Cincinnati worry-free (or at least it seems like that now that I look back on it), Paul teaching me the appropriate hand signals to offer other Jeep drivers, while I soaked in Cincinnati, trying to discern if this could really become my forever home. He didn’t think I was paying attention then, but I was (at least a little bit). Then the engagement happened, and Paul bought a used Ford truck from my dad’s company (maybe that would win him over?), and I had to learn the appropriate hand signals to offer other truck drivers. He didn’t think I was paying attention then, either, and he’s probably right– I was planning a wedding!! Either way, after thirteen years of lessons, I think I might have it down.
Sprinkles of Ginger 