It's a pleasure to see him grow in personality and character. His sense of humor can slay you.
Contemplating Art
Aidan is growing up so fast. He is delightful with a great sense of flair play and humor at 3.4 years of age. Here he contemplates art at Brookgreen Gardens in South Carolina.
Some recent quotes:
"Holy Shoot!" (It began raining hard)
"I can't because I'm not an octopus" (about getting us breakfast in bed)
"I want my freakin' baba" (his milk)
Some recent quotes:
"Holy Shoot!" (It began raining hard)
"I can't because I'm not an octopus" (about getting us breakfast in bed)
"I want my freakin' baba" (his milk)
Pre-School Crush
Ladies and Gentlemen: It's official. Our first 'at school' crush. Mr. Aidan here (age 3) with 'Miss Mia' at Pre-school graduation.
Things I Learn from My 3 Year-Old
My son, who is three, has a new hobby of building elaborate "mouse houses" on our (king size) bed with all the pillows and blankets within 20 sq. feet.. These houses appear to serve as cushioned bunkers 'just in case' the Big Mouse should come along and, well, SCARE us. The Mouse House building is important stuff with speciifc technical details that I am not privvy to no matter how hard I try to understand the intricacies of Mouse House building. I am corrected repeatedly about proper Mouse House building. I adjust. I adapt. I follow my son's instructions. I get it right! Or so I think. But the rules keep changing. The carrot gets harder to reach or it disappears completely. The "rules" become more elaborate/elusive.
That's about the time I ask if the Big Mouse is coming. Should we take cover? If I ASK the question, the answer is "No, not yet.". If I declare that, in fact, the Big Mouse is coming right now, "Quick, hide!" then it becomes a reality and my son plays along. We hide in whatever lame, half-conceived Mouse House is available at the moment. Then we share a great moment of suspense and togetherness until the Big Mouse is gone (or tickles our feet or fails to materialize altogether)
As an always-reflecting Educator, I take away these nuggets from these experiences with my son:
1- How often have I as a teacher moved the carrot (or changed the rules, or had vague lessons or no clear assessment/accountability) causing frustration for my students?
2- How often have I allowed the stronger personalities in a class to rule the day despite my best plans for learning?
3- How often have I simply and explicity declared what we're doing and held fast without fail for the benefit of all (becauseI know my intentions are good and the material is rich and worth knowing).
4- Do I stay focused on the Big Mouse? In other words, how meaningful and relevant is all the learning we're doing in the first place? Can it be better? Does it have traction? Will it be remembered and retained?
Have the habits to learn new things been instilled, stimulated and nurtured so that, I, as teacher no longer cease to be required? So that learning resides with the Learner.
Finally, since we know that an emotional experience is more memorable than an "informational" experience, to what extent are feelings of 'intimate anticipation' and 'excitement' palpable in my classroom. Is it still my classroom or is it our classroom where we all construct, deconstruct, start again, change, adapt, pause, reflect, share and start again?
We Went Snowshoeing!
When Thomas and Elizabeth came to my house we decided to go snowsheing. It was great fun. We walked outside in fields and through the woods. We even saw a few snow mobiles. But my favorite part was making snow angels.
I Was A Fireman For Halloween!
Halloween was fun!! I went as a Fireman!
Here's a picture of me. I went walking down my street to everyone's house and said "Happy Halloweening" and then people let me take candy which I don't really eat a lot same with cookies but still it was fun then I when I git cold we went home and then I went with Dad to get pizza at the new place and I ate a whole piece after I saw my friend Jason too!! Today I'm going to be a fireman again at Carly's house.
When A Cat Goes Missing
She's gone. Our cat Sinki (shortened from Helsinki), that is. No explanation. She just vanished like the Mayans. Nobody remembers her escaping the house (she's a housecat). Yet here we are-four days on-with no cat. We've scoured the neighborhood, the attic, any nook and cranny on the outside of the house in and in the yard.
Her brother, Russell (the cat) cries for her and we all have an ache in our heart which is made all the more pointed when a two-year-old asks for an explanation or when he calls out for her as we walk the street searching.
Who knows the inner workings of cats? Why do they disappear? For what reason leaving behind a mystery that at least until now remains unsolved.
We love you Sinki. Come back home.
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