I got a nap this morning, and as I did my children were bathed and dressed and fed.
God’s design (that whole two-parent thing) *so* makes the most sense.
Longer post later. Not much later, but much longer.
As in, This-is-your-warning-don’t-complain-later-I-didn’t-warn-you longer.
Ever since introducing the concept of homonymto my 3- and 4-year-olds last year, discovering new examples has been a source of delight for them.
Knowing a bit more now about the difference between homonym and homophone I’ve considered introducing the new word… but haven’t yet.
Natasha has been experimenting with the idea of heartsick (very sad) yesterday and today. As we drove home Thursday night she interrupted her latest attempt to use heartsick in a sentence and said, “There’s the heart in your body, and the heart you draw…” I can feel the hope and excitement building. “Is heart a homonym?”
And I’m sitting there, thinking of her new word all the other ways the word heart is used, and I truely don’t know the answer to that one.
I went and auditioned last night for a play I know next to nothing about.
It felt a bit like an ethical quandary, truly:
Is showing up like an eBay bid, where if you “win” (are selected) you are bound to follow through and roll with whatever’s given you?
I resist being bound, but understand the thinking that would assume this to be basic courtesy.
I did get a “call-back” today. But it’s for a time-slot I have already committed elsewhere, so I left a message saying so and am waiting to see how it shakes out.
Melody had her first public solo last night. (that link should take you to YouTube, The video wasn’t embedding properly, so I changed it to a link)
You’ll probably have to jack your volume, but I was pleased to have any recording.
“I want to do that again next time,” she said as soon as we got back to our seats. “With different people, though.”
I told her she was very brave to march up there and do it, and asked if she was scared.
“I was nervous when I walked up,” she said, “But singing was exciting.”
A quick collection of my thoughts on these results.
Yes, I’m disappointed Obama won, but it’s not because I wanted McPalin so much as I grieve even the possibility of the FOCA (I’m still praying against it).
A few posts I read after learning the results sort of meshed together in my tired mind.
~
From Penelope Trunk (in a completely unrelated post), referring to her initial instinct to have a good cry after a disappointment:
But then I realized that I never fall apart. I get through lots of stuff and people always say it’s so much but really, what else can you do? People get through what they have to.
I’ve said that before in different ways. “America” (i.e., those in it not currently euphoric) will find that life goes on. Our call has not changed, and believers may even find it easier to stay engaged with their culture with a bit of fire lit under them.
~ ~
Bonnie at Intellectuelle observed in Voting for Our Imaginations,
I just think that what we actually vote for isn’t presidential candidates but for our own hopes and dreams. It’s good that we can hope and dream. It’s even better that we have a lot more choice in this country than those in many other parts of the world can even dream of. We have a responsibility to honor this freedom of choice and…choose. But we must also realize, I think, that we don’t have the power we think we do; that politicians and their policies don’t always have the power we wish they did; and that, often, they do actually have a lot more power than is good for either them or us.
Watching (on television) some of the African Americans in line waiting to vote, I felt the weight of why they were voting. One couple that reporters spoke to was (I guessed) in their 60s or 70s. When asked if they ever thought this day would come, both were nearly speechless with emotion and shook their heads emphatically.
This wasn’t about policy, and maybe not even about handouts. This was about making history and having your racial identity (inseparable, I’d argue, from your personal identity) symbolically validated. Perhaps for the first time.
~ ~ ~
My thoughts and prayers have shifted to the judges: that they will hang on until the next congress is elected (and that a conservative congress will be in place).
This moment makes me think of a similar moment about 8 years ago, when we had a GOP majority w/ a GOP prez. A lot of Christians seemed to think we had it made, and I wonder if they stopped praying.
My workplace at the time played NPR and many Democrat supporters were calling in with their concerns about the new situation and articulating why this new development was the end of the world. Some of them were most poignant, and I could feel the fear in their voices, even if I couldn’t identify with it.
Then a young man called in with an entirely different view. Let it go, he said, it’s just one election. This is the way the American system works: one group gets it for a while, and if they screw up bad enough they lose their chance. Let them have it for two years. When the American public sees the mess they make of things we’ll get it back.
That next election (again, if I remember right) was the point at which the Democrats got enough seats to block so many of Bush’s nominees for the high courts. The chance could return.
~
This is the view I’ve tried to take. I’ve begun praying that truth with be honored, that evil will be revealed and the innocent protected– no matter who’s officially in-charge.
The largest blessing I foresee with Obama and a Democratic Congress is that even the most hopeful supporters will see that humans are not the answer to the problems we face; they won’t be able to say “If only Obama was elected…”
This is how I pray.
-6.2 degrees F on the thermometer when I got back.
And when I got back I realized I’d been wearing my expensive birthday-present earings on a cold walk in the soft snow.
It got my heart beating imagining having to look for one of them out in the dark.
Challenges “Needle in the haystack” with “Earring in the snowdrift.”
Persistence would find either one, but not usually before the cost/benefits ratio started jumping up and down waving at you.
I lost a very special ring one year after the first snow fall. I still question the legitimacy, now, of calling on “found ring” ads on the random chance I’d find it again.
Melody: I was playing with the cat!
Me: Was he enjoying it as much as you?
Melody [slowly]: NnnooooYeah!
I have this game I bought a couple years ago to use for the storytelling class I was developing at the time.
Looking for something new to do with the girls (I’m experimenting with letting Melody skip naps) I pulled it out and tried on the fly to see if I could adapt it to their level.
The gist of it is to tell a story using the elements shown on your dealt cards to reach the ending written on your “happily ever after” card. Complicated to explain, simple enough to do. With a little practice.
Anyway, I only got so far as to say it’s about telling a story from a card and laying out three “place” cards as examples when Natasha said, “A forest! I have a story for that one!” And Melody picked up the Island and said, “I can tell a story from this one!”
So I put away the other cards and came to the computer to write down what they told me.
I couldn’t type nearly fast enough; certainly not enough to catch the inflection and pauses that (seriously!) added so much to the basic stories their words expressed. But it was only our first time, so I hope we’ll both get better at this.
Natasha’s story:
Once upon a time there was a princess and one day her father who had a beard wanted her to go to the forest.
Now, the princess didn’t quite want to go, but her father insisted because he wanted her to go so she had to go. But because it was a dangerous place ….he made a good solution they would both go to the forest.
…Still the king would protect.
They all loved their educational ride through the forest and one day they soon died from a very bad forest fire from a dragon that burned the whole huge forest.
Melody’s story:
Once upon a time there was a king, an island, who wanted his queen to go to the dangerous land of the deep, deep, deep stream of futures. And there’s trolls in the water.
So the king went himself and killed all the trolls and then he walked silently through the water until he came to his home again.
The end.
“That’s the short story,” she finished, in her normal voice.
Chocolate lab, already semi-trained, 3-years-old and loves to cuddle.
The girls adore her and we’re teaching Elisha that “long-suffering” does *not* equal asking for more suffering.
I am so thankful to have found her.
The short story: We’ve been looking at the shelter a couple times a week the last few months. We’ve looked at a number of dogs (even tried two out in our home: one for a few hours one for almost two weeks), but this is the one who is fitting.
She was an owner surrender with “not enough time for her” listed as the reason for giving her up. She had a restless first night and barks more willingly than we like just now, but she has been perfect with the kids, strangers and the other dogs we’ve met in class and at the dog park.
But we’re on the way better.
On top of the general yuckiness we all feel, Melody seems to be in that rough transitional stage between keeping naps and leaving them behind.
This morning Melody desolved over something and wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. I found her bubbling in her room and scooped her up, pretending she was my doll and crawled into her bed with her protesting all the way.
I snuggled us both under the blankets and made all the silly comments about my squeeky doll (it’s a game we play reletively frequently) until she was giggly then calm, and we just lay together getting warm before she looked at me, all bright-eyed and cheerful again and we could just talk.
It’s interesting to me how much warmth, touch (and food, to complete the Comfort Trinity) work near-magic with these kiddos. So sweet.
I have a passel of pictures to upload once pictures are working again, but for now I wanted to say our approach to Kindergarten has morphed a few times now.
I’m glad I haven’t been saying each thing as we were doing it, but to recap, we began with the intent of hammering out the “3 Rs” during Nap-time so that it would be just me and Natasha, and got over with quickly so we could return to “regular life.”
The difficulty with that was we were neither of us in our best mental state during nap-time, and making school just the school work was too stark for Natasha.
So we’ve shifted to doing school in the morning, and we’re doing games during “school time.”
The kids have to be dressed before 9 a.m., but can play however they like until 9, when “Performance Today” starts on NPR. I don’t usually have the radio going during the day (I like better the control the iPod offers) but so far I like the classical music (with the commentary/introductions) for the backdrop of our working time.
I have the younger two go off and play by themselves (all my children are *very* good at this) and we alternate the reluctant writer with games and other elements of learning that I’ve been given or am collecting from my reading.