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Spendings

Friday 15 January 2021

The Boy loves to spend money. He has a million and one ideas about what he’s going to buy, and it changes from day to day. We protected his first communion money and steered him toward spending it on something useful: a new bike. However, his allowance is a different story.

This week, he decided he wanted to buy a prank kit. He spent $15 on kit that included

  • a whoopee cushion,
  • a small plastic finger that one pulls to create a sound that I think is supposed to sound like flatulence but instead sounds like just wildly chaotic noise;
  • slime, and
  • some kind of strange little bouncy rubber ball.

Four items that probably cost a total of $2 to make, and he paid $15 for it. K advised him that it was not the best way to spend his money. It was especially ill-advised since the last time he bought a whoopee cushion, it burst the first time he sat on it. (I always thought the idea was that someone else sat on it, but I guess I was wrong.)

Today, at dinner, he had an epiphany: “I wasted that money!” The realization caused great stress, but K reassured him: “If you learned a lesson from it, it’s money well spent.”

In Which the Girl Gets Her First Phone

Thursday 07 January 2021

Chess with the Boy

Tuesday 05 January 2021

He’s improving. He’s thinking in terms of potential. He’s looking at my last move and giving it consideration.

Tonight, he moved his rook to the semi-open file — always a good development strategy in the opening 8-15 moves.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked.

“So I could attack that,” he replied matter-of-factly, pointing at one of my pawns.

“How many defenders does it have?”

“Three.”

“How many attackers?” I enquired further.

“Two.”

“Is it safe to take?”

“Nope.”

I looked over at K. “He’s going to be able to beat you sooner than later,” I said.

“I’m sure,” she smiled.

Then his tummy started hurting — but that’s a different story.

Beaufort Day 5

Thursday 31 December 2020

The Boy finally found his shark teeth. We went back to the beach famed for its shark teeth and within seconds, he'd found his first. It wasn't his last.

"Once I found one, I was in my prime!" he declared shortly before asking, "Daddy, what does it mean to be 'in my prime'?"

Photo by K on her iPhone

"I love when you use words you don't really know!" I laughed.

"What?! It was on Cupcake and Dino. I'm just not sure what it means."

I explained. It pleased him that he'd used it correctly.

Photo by K on her iPhone

Beaufort Day 2

Monday 28 December 2020

"Daddy, I have one dream for this trip," the Boy has been saying since we arrived. "I want to go shark tooth hunting." We watched a couple of videos on how to do it, and it seemed entirely possible that the Boy could find a number of them during an hour or so of searching.

After a little hunting, we asked someone who seemed to know what he's doing. "You just have to look for black triangles," he explained, shaking out of a small bottle the small black fossilized teeth he'd found during the morning. "Like that one," he continued, reaching down and plucking up a small tooth that he'd just discovered.

If it was that easy to find, we all thought it would be a simple enough matter for the Boy to discover one.

"It's my dream to find a shark tooth," E reiterated. Multiple times.

Soon enough, L found one. Then K found one. Then L found another. But E found nothing.

"Maybe we can come back later today and look again," E suggested. It was, after all, not quite low tide yet.

We headed off to the historic district of Beaufort for a little lunch and exploring. We found a charming church with an old cemetery that had a few graves from Revolutionary War soldiers. E was impressed with the age of the graves, impressed with the size of the church, but still thinking about that shark tooth he still hadn't found.

We finished up our time in Beaufort with a walk along the waterfront where marveled at the homes of the rich, large mansions that spoke of fortunes beyond our own considerations and imagination. (We got echoes of that in the evening when we watched Pride and Prejudice.)

Finally, we found a good spot for a few portraits.

Then we headed back to the beach where we'd started the morning searching for shark teeth.

The tide had risen, and the search was all the more difficult for it. Everyone searched for teeth; everyone found shark teeth. Everyone except the Boy.

It crushed him.

The whole way back to the car, he was on the verge of tears. "Everyone found a tooth! Everyone! Even L found a tooth, and she was not even interested in it until this morning!"

When we got back to the place we're renting through AirBnB, he threw himself into the corner of the couch and fought back the tears. "It was my dream to find a shark tooth!" he whimpered. "My dream!"

Earlier in the day, in a gift shop, we'd bought a small bag of shark teeth. He bought them because they were cool; I encouraged him because I knew after that morning that finding a tooth is not a guaranteed adventure. I used this to try to reason with him: "Look, you wanted to look for shark teeth. You wanted to find a shark tooth. And you wanted to go back home with a shark tooth. You're accomplishing two of your three desires."

I knew it was a long shot, and he saw right through it. "But I wanted to find a tooth!" If he'd managed that one simple feat, the other two would have automatically been fulfilled. My cleverness might have soothed a younger boy, but not an eight-year-old E.

These are the silly things that happen in the course of parenting that seem both highly significant and completely trivial. His pain and frustration were highly significant: I recall wanting something so badly at that age, how I used to get my heart so set on it that if it didn't come to fruition, I might as well have died, so bleak seemed my prospects afterward. Yet it was at the same time so trivial: he's going home with thirty to forty shark teeth in his bag. In a few weeks or a few months at most, this will be an almost-disappeared memory. It will be a foggy memory he recalls as his own son deals with similar frustration.

Cleaning

Saturday 19 December 2020

Today’s task with the Boy — make some serious improvements in his room. Specifically, in its cleanliness. This meant, in part, going through toys and throwing out things that were broken, packing away to Goodwill things he no longer played with, and generally taking stock of the toys he has and what he needs.

We took out three garbage bags of stuff from his room, including probably 40 cars. We dumped all his cars out into a pile and ran the wheel test: if all four wheels roll, it’s a keeper; if not, toss it.

He was at times somewhat reluctant to give up this or that car. But we tried to be brutal. Heartless. “It’s broken, buddy,” I said I don’t know how many times. “You can’t play with it. You can’t do anything with it…”

“Yeah, but…”

Next, we cleaned out under his bed. Once we got everything taken care of, he decided he wanted to be the monster under the bed. That’s an improvement.

And toward the middle of the afternoon, L made her way into E’s room to clean the windows. K has hired her to do a lot of the Christmas cleaning because she’s saving up for a phone. That’s right. We’ve finally given in. The Girl, at age fourteen, is getting her first phone.

And, in truth, she does need one at times. She called me from volleyball practice once because they’d ended early. “Let’s go ahead and delete that number from the history…” I suggested, handing her the phone when we got in the car.

Growing and Writing

Wednesday 09 December 2020

My classes are growing. More specifically, they grew today — doubled, in fact. Today was the first day we had all students back at the same time. Sixth grade has been doing it for a couple of weeks now; seventh grade began last week; this week was eighth grade’s turn. So each class had 18-24 students in plexiglass-enclosed quad-desks, each six feet apart. “Remember,” I said countless times, “these plexiglass shields only serve as protection for you and your neighbor if you have your masks on.” This mean that it was the first day for everyone wearing masks all day.

How long will we stay like this? What effect will the Thanksgiving surge, now in full swing, have on it? I really don’t know.

As part of my promise to K about my beard (“I’ll get rid of it when we’re back in school 100%.”), I had the Boy shave me last night.

That was how we had some of our Daddy-E time. Tonight, it was writing: the Boy has discovered fountain pens,

and that discovery has inspired him to write short stories. We’re working on a tag-team zombie story now.

Treble Clef

Wednesday 02 December 2020

Today the Boy had music for his related art class in school. They're working on the treble clef.

"I took the after-lesson quiz," he explained, "and I got 3 out of 20 right! I took it again and only got 4 out of 20 correct!" His frustration was mounting to the level I'm sure it achieved when he was struggling with the material in class.

Checking school lunch. "Daddy, this is what I'm having tomorrow! It's delicious!"

After dinner, I printed out the old methods of memorizing the treble clef: "Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge" and "FACE."

We went through his work together, and he made a perfect score. "That was easy," he decided.

He noticed, though, that there are two D notes on the treble clef: one just beside middle C, and one almost up at the top of the clef.

"Two Ds?!"

So we went to the piano and started poking around. We talked about the patterns of the black keys and used that as a way to show which keys corresponded to which note.

"This is D," I said. "See how it's between the two black keys? Now show me another D."

Trying Coffee

Sunday 29 November 2020

The Boy is often eager to try new things.

Today, he tried a sip from my coffee.

It wasn't a hit.

Forbidden Island

Saturday 28 November 2020

Out of the blue this evening, the kids decided they wanted to play Forbidden Island. At least that’s how I understood it by the time they made it down to the livingroom with the game. I’d wager it was more L’s initiative than the Boy’s, but they were both excited about it when they came down.

I was less excited. About playing the game, that is. I don’t understand the game. It just seems to be a bunch of randomness pawned off as a prize-winning game. “How many drugs did they do before coming up with the arbitrary rules that make up that game?” I laughed with K once the Boy was in bed and the Girl had retreated to her friends on Facetime.

But none of that really mattered — here we were spending time together without any fussing, without any arguments. The kids are at a tough age: E is young enough to derive joy from irritating people and the Girl is not quite old enough to be patient with it all. These moments, while increasing in frequency as the kids grow up, still feel relatively rare some days. So we make the most of them when they are here.

Family Game