After an afternoon of biking…
Month: January 2012
Cycling Afternoon
A new bike, sized right, a quiet cul-de-sac, and an experienced friend who’s a wheel-radius ahead in cycling development make for an afternoon of colossal advances in biking. The radius ahead, however, was often a radius to the right, to the left, a radius behind.
Much to the Girl’s consternation. Five year olds together, best friends, are often like an old married couple: constantly arguing, but inseparable.
Delicate Work
The Girls
My girls.
A Walk in the Park
After a day spent indoors, we were all in need of some motion outside. A damp, gray sky and cold air conspired to keep us inside — we all are fighting illness in one stage or another — but the promise of a warming walk won out.
We headed downtown, to Falls Park, with its cantilevered bridge and short, riverside paths. It had been months — probably over a year — since we’d been to that particular park, and it seemed there was a new attraction there: an entire fleet of bench swings.
And the Girl made a valiant effort to swing on every single one.
The swings certainly weren’t the only attraction. There was a fascinating tangle of roots,
several dozen rocks begging to be tossed into the swift current,
and an alligator that sneaked up on Mama and almost gobbled her up for a late afternoon snack.
Eventually, everyone needs a late afternoon snack, though.
Rainy Day Play
Rainy days require umbrellas to check the mail — whichever umbrella one can find.
And rain days require inventive play.
Thoughts on the Balcony
We all go into the classics of literature with certain preconceptions and assumptions. We grow up hearing about Romeo and Juliet, and knowing that it is considered a classic love story, we expect to find a valiant and noble Romeo. What we find, as the play develops, is a character that is entirely more human than we expected. In fact, early impressions of the young man sour quickly.
These are some of the impressions from my eighth graders after a two-day look at 2.2, the famous balcony scene.
- I think Romeo is a little obsessive. Like when he was in love with Rosaline, he fell deeply in love, but he quickly moved on to Juliet. He didn’t even know who she was and he was already making out with her! I think nowadays he would be considered a player.
- He’s a major creeper and totally a player. I would never date him.
- I think Romeo has good logistics but when it comes to love, he’s a bit tipsy! He is a star-crossed stalker.
- I can’t believe he went to her balcony. That is mega-weird.
- Romeo is a psycho-creepy stalker!
- Romeo is very spontaneous. He lacks a lot of common sense that Juliet has.
- Romeo is someone I would trust but would not fully trust.
- I can see why Rosaline left [Romeo].
- Even though he is a creeper, he seems romantic and sweet.
- Boy is he a CREEPER! Come on now! You just met her!
- Romeo is brave yet incredibly stupid.
- I hope as we read on he will get back to the person I thought he might’ve been before, like charming and funny and bold.
- [Romeo] is annoying and very stalkerish, but I don’t see him as mean.
- I wish Romeo was more of a perfect gentleman, funny, daring.
- Romeo is a creepy, weird person. I thought he was cool at first, but not anymore.
- I feel like Romeo is being shallow.
- Romeo is a creep.
- [Juliet] seems like she would make smart decisions like not to smoke or drink.
- I think Juliet would be a cool person (without the old English).
- You’re telling me you wouldn’t risk life and limb for your belovèd? That’s not very gentlemanly. (In response to another student.)
- I probably wouldn’t be friends with Romeo because he confuses me a lot of times.
- [Juliet] has good views on love and is an independent girl. We will soon be BFFs :)
- Romeo is a professional psycho. ‘Nuff said.
- [Juliet is] NOT creepy, like Romeo!
- The crazy part of it is that Juliet ends up killing herself for the psycho! See, she’s the one that needs to be checked into a mental institution for liking him!
- Romeo is a stalking creep. Nope, we wouldn’t be friends. We’d be best friends. We’d go stalking together.
- Romeo goes with his heart and blacks out his mind, which is not good at all!
- Romeo falls in love a lot.
- Romeo would be the kind of person that would be overprotective and call or text you every day, say “I love you” a lot. (Clingy.)
- I’m not being friends with some mushy guy!
- I’d be [Romeo’s] friend as long as he stays away from my window!
- I wouldn’t want to listen to [Romeo] sob about love and girls all the time.
- Romeo is a dreamer and a gal-pal and would be annoying.
- Romeo is starting to turn out a little weird.
- I think it’s pretty hardcore that Romeo lives in the present.
- I’d keep a fair distance [from Romeo].
- If Romeo says you can only love one person, then why does he love two?
Working the Puzzle
The Girl has a little marble and maze puzzle (maybe “ball bearing and maze” is a better description) that involves manipulating the plane of the puzzle so that the ball bearing roles through the maze. Nothing new: we all had one growing up. She’s developed an unorthodox method of solving it, though: she simply shakes it until the bearing gradually crawls to the center.
K decided it was time to teach her how to do it properly.
The results were amusing for both.
Afternoon Playing
Afternoon Playing, a set on Flickr.
We set the camera up and let the pictures tell the story.
Via Flickr:
The Girl and I spend a day out of school together.
This Is A Test
It’s a delicate balance, making a test that is both challenging and yet not impossible. On the one hand, a good test measures how much students know. The flip side of that, however, is just as important: a good test also tells how well a teacher taught.
I found today’s exam did neither…
Counting Up Costs
When I was a kid, there was once a toy backhoe that I saw in a department stores — I believe it was Sears back when Sears mattered — that I wanted so badly I could think of nothing else at times. Every single time we were in the store, I had to head over to the toy department and look at it, handle it, play with it as much as was possible in its wrapping.
I can only imagine my torture if someone in my class had said backhoe, brought it to school, and wouldn’t allow me to touch it.
The Girl finds herself in a similar situation. Of course it’s not a backhoe; it’s a Barbie camper. And she did have the awful situation of being able to see but not touch, of being able to watch someone play with it but not join in.
And so she decided there’s only one way to solve the problem, given the fact that the answer to the questino, “Mama, Tata, can you buy me…” was “No.”
Check the piggie bank and see how much she was short.
The End of the Season
Poles traditionally don’t put up the Christmas tree until a few days before Christmas, as opposed to Americans, who seem to start getting ready for Christmas before Halloween. This is especially true in shops. On the other hand, Poles tend to leave their trees up until the end of January.
This late set-up, late pack-up habit undoubtedly comes from the Catholicism that permeates Polish society. Christmas day is only the beginning of the Christmas season, and accordingly, having the tree and decoration up during the season and not simply before it.
We work something of a compromise in our home: we decorate a couple of weeks before and keep it a couple of weeks after. Eventually, though, the time comes: we put on some carols for one last time and take down the tree.
The Girl, happy to have her dancing space back, spins in joy.
Early Sun
A couple of weeks ago, the sun came streaming through rare, early-morning fog to produce the most ethereal view in our neighbor’s backyard.
Helping
One of the reasons I so like taking L to the park is the adventure she has meeting new people. She always makes a new friend — though they seldom even learn their names — and sharpens her social skills.
Monkeying Around
The Bath
During the first days of the Girl’s life, giving her a bath was, in K’s and my new-parent, paranoid mind, a two-person job. So delicate, cradled in a tightly netted support that actually sat above the water in a small, counter-top, plastic wash tub. Eventually, the netted support disappeared, and the Girl merely sat in the tub. After three or so years of that (including an eventual transferring of the plastic tub from the counter top to the adult-size bath tub), the Girl graduated to the main tub itself.
Throughout it all, though, it’s been my job (primarily) to bath her. And as she’s moved from tub to tub, my role has diminished.
Lately, I’ve been happily reduced to the role of water-pourer, which leaves me with time to do other things.
Tough Lessons
Because one of my plugins broke with the upgrade to WordPress 3.3, I have to click over to Flickr and manually grab the code for each image I want to insert. In some ways, it would be easier simply to upload them directly to this site, but we use Flickr as a mastery back-up for our best photos — the ones we absolutely don’t want to lose — so in the long run, it’s worth the extra step. But it does mean some clicking: Click on the picture. Click on the “Share” button. Select the text and copy. Click to the new window — you get the point.
Still, as far as sharing goes, this is fairly painless, because one of the hardest things to learn is the gift of sharing. I say “gift of sharing” as if it’s something easy for me to do. It’s not. I doubt it’s easy for anyone in all situations. We all have this or that which we hang on to with clinched fists even when we aren’t aware of how are knuckles are turning white.
For the Girl, it’s Wawel’s candy, “Kasztanki.” L is simply obsessed with them. This is partially because of their rarity: they’re not readily available in the South. (One might find them in Polish stores up north, but not down here.) Babcia sends them to the Girl on a fairly regular basis, but from time to time, she does run out, and then it’s a period of slow heartbreak.
Tonight, we suggested that L share her favorite candy with Nana and Papa so they could see what all the fuss was about. Judging from her expression, one would think we’d asked her to give up a kidney or sacrifice her life. Eventually she relented, though not without a bit of persuasion.
I suppose we all take some persuading to share some things.
The Return to Reality
The return after a long break is both nerve-wracking and refreshing. The former comes from the unpredictability of fourteen-year-olds. The latter is a simple function of having a long period away from each other. As much as I like my students, it’s good to be away from them from time to time — to be around adults more than kids. (Well, having a five-year-old daughter, I’m not sure how much that’s really possible.)
For everyone today — teachers and students — it seemed the “refreshing” won out. Far from being reluctant to return to studies, many students seemed positively eager to come back — at least that was the feeling I got in my classes.
It was a good Monday, and often can one say that, especially after a long break?
First Ride
The Girl’s first cycling experiences were as a passenger, a constantly-exhorting weight I pulled around in a trailer more or less at the speed she liked. “Faster, Tata!” would soon morph into, “Not so fast, Tata!” While I love her boundlessly, she was sometimes quite an irritating passenger.
Today, the Girl and I took our first father/daughter bike ride: a respectable distance of 2.1 kilometers (1.3 miles) in a nearby park. It took us 28 minutes, meaning we were riding roughly 4.3 km/h (2.7mph). There were a number of reasons for this rather slow tempo, all related to her lack of cycling experience.
- Having training wheels makes her dependent on them for balance. Thus, when one loosens a bit and is thus not providing perfect support, L panics.
- L is terrified of going downhill. When she gets going too fast, she panics and, instead of putting on brakes, plants both feet firmly — albeit very temporarily — on the ground. The pedals bite her ankles, she almost looses her balance and falls forwards, and the whole thing becomes a gigantic trauma. “You need to use your bakes” I said continuously today.
- The Girl doesn’t have the best concept of two-way traffic. Even when she sees someone coming from the opposite direction, she seems oblivious.
- She hasn’t mastered braking, so it’s always all or nothing. There is no such thing as coasting on the brakes.
- L’s bike is too small for her. Her knees almost touch the handlebars, and her legs are never more than 3/4 extended.
- When all of this combines into one experience, it is disaster writ large.
Still, a relatively successful first day out. We’ll start working on our first father/daughter century ride when we get her a new bike this spring.
