learning | matching tracksuits

Teaching

Wednesday 07 January 2015

Before dinner, K and E sit in the middle of the kitchen floor, working a puzzle. It was the Boy's idea, his initiative.

After dinner (more or less), K and L sit at the dinner table, doing Polish lessons. It was K's idea, her initiative.

Perhaps if we could figure out some way to make Polish lessons as fun for L as puzzles are for E, we might have more success. And so that's what I tried, putting on my jester's hat and giving ridiculously wrong answers to L's work, getting a giggle and correction.

Three Picture Evening

Tuesday 04 November 2014

First there was the tea party. The prototypical cliche little girl game, the tea party has never really been a frequent occurrence in our house. I'm not sure why it made an appearance today. But there they were, all sipping tea.

Then there was the homework. Reading comprehension. "Go back to the text," I reminded L time and time again. "Go back to the text. Don't try to answer the question from memory." And so as the Girl progresses through school, the things I say in the classroom start popping up during the homework sessions.

Finally, the kids in bed, K and I turn to cooking. "We haven't had rosół in a while," K said some time ago, and so tonight we cook that Polish favorite that's really an international soup. After all, what is pho in essence but chicken noodle soup, which is exactly what rosół is. Sort of.

After Dinner with the Boy

Tuesday 28 October 2014

We're creatures of habit, the Boy and I. After dinner, there's really only one place to go. I could say it's an effort to get exercise, but I'm the only one really moving: the Boy, he's just laughing, chatting, fussing -- being a typical two-year-old.

We move in shapes -- triangles maybe -- from the driveway to the swing to the sandbox, back to the driveway.

There are always interruptions. A siren sounds in the distance, draws closer. The Boy stops and watches.

After a bit more digging, he declares it's time to go in. But on his way, it's time for a little work, and I get a glimpse into his bilingual reality. In typical E fashion, he begins raking and explaining what he's doing.

"To rake" in Polish is grabić. Before we head inside, he declares, "I'm grabing!"

Fast Forward

Thursday 18 September 2014

Sometimes it seems life with the Boy and the Girl is on fast forward. This is especially true of the Boy, now that he’s talking and giving us more than the mere glimpses we used to get into his developing intelligence and personality. This morning, as I was preparing coffee to take to work, I hear,

“Daddy, can I try it?”

It’s a common refrain: the Boy wants to try everything. In that sense, he’s the polar opposite of L, who hates to try anything new.

“No, little man, this is coffee. It’s hot, and it’s got caffeine. You’re too young to drink it.”

He thought for a little while, then asked hesitatingly, as he often does when he’s turning something over in his thoughts as he speak, “But when I’m bigger?”

Fast forward to the post-dinner cleanup. K was talking to the Boy and for some reason — some of those little conversations start so harmlessly insignificantly that it’s difficult to recreate them in the evening — said something like “B, as in bottle, as in big, as in…” At which point the Boy took over, with boy, baby, and a few others.

The Sign of the Cross

Saturday 13 September 2014

We're starting simple, with the most basic prayer there is: the Sign of the Cross.

The Boy's getting it. Sort of.

Colors

Sunday 07 September 2014

Sometimes, the Boy tries to be cute. He sees the camera out and decides to scrunch up his face into a silly expression. But sometimes, it seems to come more naturally. And sometimes, it’s positively eerie — in a positive way, of course.

Today, while sitting on the bed waiting for the girls to get ready so the three of them could head to a friend’s for a birthday party, E and I decided to read a book. And he selected his new favorite, a book on colors from the library. He knows red. He wants to know them all. But he knows red.

We began.

Pointing to the strawberry, he said, “Red!” No hesitation. We turned to the next page.

E was a bit hesitant, but wanted to do well.

“Um, red?”

“No, purple.”

“Urple?”

“Yes. Purple.” And we turned the page.

“Um, red?”

“No, buddy, it’s green.”

“Green?” And we turned the page.

“Um, red?”

I started wondering at this point if it was a game. He does like to be silly. Still, I played along, game or no.

“No, little man, it’s yellow.”

Next page.

“Um, red?”

I realized at this point that perhaps he doesn’t know red. Perhaps it’s the only color name he knows.

He knows blue. He’s used the word before, and correctly. I was expecting “Um, blue?”

“Um, red?”

No, he doesn’t know red. Or blue. Or yellow. Or green. He doesn’t know his colors.

We turned the page.

“Um, red?”

We turned the page.

“Um, red?”

“It’s not funny anymore,” I wanted to say, even though it was.

Yep — red.

We turned to the final page. Pink. Close to red. “Red” would be a close enough answer, especially to a colorblind daddy like me.

“Um, yummy!”

No, it wasn’t a game, but it sure seemed like a set-up.

Garbage Truck

Wednesday 09 July 2014

The Boy loves cars. I mean loves cars. He has a sizable collection of matchbox cars (yes, that is a brand name but like Kleenex, it’s come to represent the object in general), mostly thanks to Nana and Papa, and among these cars is a garbage truck. A favorite. And that explains his interest in the following exchange.