My Life So Far

It's been 7 months since I made my angry debut into the world, but I am definitely happier than I was that first night.  My mom thought she was in for it when I spent the first 24 hours with a scowl on my face, but now she's thanking God and her lucky stars that I am such a contented kid.  I roll over, I've sprouted two bottom teeth, and am starting to eat real food.  The usual baby stuff.  I have four big people that are around and I've divided them into the Big Parents and the Little Parents.  I have been taught to say 'Mommy', and I think it stands for the smaller of the Big Parents because she gets a giant grin whenever I say it.  The other Big Parent is nice, too, except recently he's been trying to pass this glass and rubber thing off as my milk source, and Mommy it definitely ain't.  I have thus far refused.

The Little Parents look very similar except one seems to come a great deal closer than the other, and by close I mean in-my-face.  I can't see her that way, but whenever she backs up and I can focus, she makes me laugh the most.  What a ham!  But she still scares me a little when she a) runs at me b) lays on top of me, or c) runs at me and then lays on top of me.  I'll get her back, though.  I'm a pretty big baby - bigger than either of my sisters were - and in a few years, I'll sit on top of her and see how she likes it.

Except that I'm really mellow and perhaps won't want to make the effort.  What I do really like, though, is when the Little Parents play music.  My legs starting moving and I can't help it - I love to dance.  I guess it is inevitable since I've been sitting through their piano and violin lessons from time-before-birth.  I'm going to be a kick-ass Suzuki student in a few years!

I'm pretty quiet at this point.  I do growl like a dinosaur when I want to nurse, but that's really all the effort I have to make.  I also don't cry much, but last week, just because I overheard someone saying "Wow, I really haven't heard her cry much!", I cried.  All week.  But it was only because I was sick, and my mom was crying too, and I figured misery needed company.

Since I've been born, I seem to have been supplied with a plethora of containers.  My first container was in the car - super comfy - makes me fall asleep every time I get in.  Then, I had this basket thingy on the ground, and then a teeny bed called a co-sleeper which I refuse to sleep in, so I just stretch out in the big bed next to the Big Parents.  I also have a container on wheels for walking around the neighborhood (and two more already in the garage for when I get older), and recently, I was put in a container that bounces and makes lots of noise.  But I'm not so motivated, so after a bounce or two, I just hang out quietly until someone takes me out.  I have a cool, blue stretchy container that sits near the floor and bounces me to sleep, and now I have a really tall container where they've started to give me food.  (I like-a the squash, but the hummous - not so much.)  But my favorite place to be is in one of Mommy's 3 slings.  With so many containers, I never need to learn to walk!

So here I am - 7 months old, with wonderfully fat thighs and cheeks that get a hundred kisses a day, and a family that seems to function a bit like a circus act.  Food, love, entertainment...what more could I want?

Finding S-E-X in a Word Search

I knew I wouldn't be ready when the day came to talk to the girls about sex.  I had no idea it would be today during homeschool lessons, and I totally botched Phase 1 of Operation: TTYKAS.   I was hoping to send them to their Aunt Chris for The Talk.  She's really good at those kinds of things and I, most decidedly, am not.  I've been mulling it over, planning to peruse Amazon for some incremental books on how to present everything in a developmentally appropriate way, but today, Nourit found the word in a word search and the floodgates are now open.

A couple weeks ago I had the brilliant idea to create a word search to help Nourit practice her spelling words.  The have some nifty little sites online that will formulate them for you if you just input your list.  I'm pretty certain that S-E-X is not a long-A word, but she found it this afternoon in that randomized square of letters, right between B-R-A-V-E and A-F-R-A-I-D.  The moment she said "sex", giggled, and asked, "What does it mean?"  I became very A-F-R-A-I-D.  When she and her little sister started chanting the word, I became downright terrified. 

"I'll tell you later." I mumbled. (Later, like, in a few years...) 

"No!  Tell us now!"  yelled Avi.  "Sex, sex, sex.  Oh, I hope the word doesn't slip out of my mouth at dance class today!"  (Rotten child.)

"NO!" I practically shouted.  "You can't say this word to any of your friends.  See, it's like telling them that Santa Claus isn't real.  It's up to the parents to decide when to talk about it.  So, no saying that word in front of anyone!"

Then it occurred to me.  Where had they heard this word before and how did she know it meant something, well, important?  I mean, they do know all the words to Gangnam Style.  At least, all the non-Korean words which would be..."Sexy La-a-dy."  Or perhaps they overheard me whispering to another mom that Mike and I had pretended like our computer was broken when a (very innocent and darkly lit) sex-scene came on in the PG movie we were watching with them about Mozart's sister.   I tell you, we are worse than teenagers giggling about sex.

At that point, I went to the room where Mike was composing and clued him into the situation just in time for Avi to waltz into the room and ask him what it meant.

"It's like Essex.  The county where Nanny and Papa live.  Get it?  Es-sex."  Nice try, Dad.  I rolled my eyes as Avi relayed the new info to Nourit.

"...and we can't tell anyone because it's where they live - in EsSex - and bad guys will come and steal their jewels."

"But that doesn't make sense." countered Nourit.  She's bright.

At that point, I took a deep breath and figured I'd bite the bullet.  "Okay, it's something that happens between a man and a woman who are married to make a baby."  Nourit's eyes lit up.  "Oh, so I can have sex with Lukas and Oscar since we're married and Avi and Ming Ming are married, and they can have it, too, and we can all have babies!"  Aaaargh! (Side note:  I had recently heard rumors that Nourit was married not only to Oscar, but to Lucas, too.  This was confirmed when she received a Valentine's card from Lukas with a picture of all three of them on it.  We've told her time and time again that that is not allowed in this country.)

I said, "No!  Absolutely not!"  and then left it at that.  I realllly was not ready for this conversation, and left it with a threat that they were not to talk about it to their friends.  Really, this homeschooling thing is for the birds.  Aren't they supposed to get this information AT school?  From a trusted source (their friends' older siblings) in an established forum (the playground)?      

Soon after, Avi left for dance class (please, God, don't let her say the 'S' word in front of the other 4 and 5 year olds.  Especially not in front of the teacher who has a teeny reputation for getting angry at her class for talking, which I totally get and do not fault her for, as she has Avi in her class.)  Nourit comes up with a silly grin and asks me to tell her more.  "What else do you know about it?"  I countered.  "Um, that a man gives his germs to a mom by kissing and they have a baby."  Yeah, I told her.  Something like that.  Did she want to know more?  No, she said.  It was too scary. 

Yeah, for me, too.  

The only thing more embarrassing about talking about sex in front of my kids is talking about sex in front of my parents, so Dad, just pretend like you didn't read this post.

Scenes from the Greenwood Commune Summer Camp

Avital, Lucas, Nourit, Oscar, Ming Ming and Anissa

Chinese Dragon Story 

(sincerest apologies for not realizing my video camera could tape horizontally...)

Greenwood Commune Music Ship

Here's a link to more scenes from the summer camp.

I'm Not a Tiger Mom, I'm a Two-Toed Sloth

After a lot of thought and discussion that I won't bore the reader with here, we decided to home school the girls for one more year.  We started the first week of August, with the idea that we'd get a month under our belts before the baby arrives, at which time we'd take a little break.  So far, so good.  Nourit has definitely lost some math skills in the two months we've taken off, but her reading is taking off.  Avital is much more interested in participating with "school", so she's been more involved than last year.  

 

Besides Reading, Writing and 'Rithmetic, (and violin, and piano, and...) I've added in a weekly History/Geography portion, as well as a Science lesson.  A couple days ago we started our section on mammals, each girl flanking me and looking at our colorful textbook of wild animals.  As we discussed the characteristics of each animal, we came to the Two-Toed Sloth.  When I met one of these up close at a child's birthday party years ago, I was fascinated.  These creatures are so amazingly slow, they seem to be on sedatives.  As I tried to explain them to Avi, I gave the sidebar that sometimes we refer to people as 'sloths' or 'slothful' if they are lazy and don't get off the couch much.  Without missing a beat she said, "Mommy, when you are pregnant, YOU are a sloth!"  

Maybe I should wait another year to educate that child.

First Violin Recital

First violin, Second violin

I don't know of whom I'm prouder - Nourit and Avital for beginning to learn the violin, or myself for figuring out how to upload a video of their first recital.  Here they are - Nourit playing her first scale, and Avi learning her beginning steps.  She just got her new violin this week - special ordered because it is so small! 

Nourit - far left, Avital -second from right

It was an itsy, bitsy, teeny weeny, tiny little violiny

Weekend in Minneapolis

One of the best parts of grad student life with kids is the friendships we've made with other parents.  One of the worst parts is having those families move away (which they inevitably do, and which, we will inevitably do, too...someday.)  Last weekend we were able to attend the (long awaited!) wedding of our dear friends from 61st Street, who moved back to Minneapolis two years ago, leaving us sad and missing them.  After visiting the twin cities this weekend, we completely understand why they moved back.  What a great place to live!  Beautiful parks, lovely neighborhoods, good pastry shops and cafes, fabulous farmers' markets, and the best children's bookstore I've ever seen.  (Nourit asked about 10 times, "Is it real?" after seeing a fancy chicken walk by her through the stacks at Wild Rumpus.  Avi particularly liked the tail-less cat, and I actually thought the hairless rat was rather cute!)

Here are some pictures from the wedding.  We are so thrilled to have been there!

Flower Children

Cole and Kyla

Neil and Amber

(Notice the Wedding Party Kazoo Band...)

She's Reading!

Tonight, after putting the girls to bed, I sat knitting (or rather, pulling out all my stitches for the umpteenth time) on the couch when Nourit tiptoed down the hall and plopped herself next to me with a pile of books in her arms.  "Daddy said I could stay up and look at books if I was quiet."  I kissed her and went on with my knitting, enjoying her silent company.  She didn't stay silent for long, though.  She started to read.  All by herself.  Without any prompting (or coercion, or bribery) from me.

This may not seem very significant to most people because, after all, there was really no doubt she'd learn to read at some point.  She has spent her entire life surrounded by a community of people who do nothing else but consume books.  She will sit for hours listening to stories that are complicated and nuanced, and then she'll beg for more.  Up until recently, though, she only wanted to listen to stories, and with first grade coming up in Chicago Public Schools, (where they expect children to be reading Tolstoy by the time they are four years old), I was beginning to panic.  See, it is my job to teach her and I'm still not certain I'm the most qualified.  I didn't want to send her off to the land of standardized testing ill-equipped, unable to even read the directions.

And I still really don't want to send her off to the land of standardized testing, but she really wants to go.  So we have the summer to consider our options.  Thankfully, she did pass one of those multiple choice tests and got into a top ranked classical school.  It's our only school option unless the ranking of 60 on the lottery is the magic number and she can go to a school less than 25 minutes away.  The other choice is to continue our experiment in homeschooling.  It's been a year full of really wonderful and really difficult moments.  I could not have asked for better friends to ease our transition from a private school to a really private school this past Fall.  Our Monday adventures with Joanna, Hilary, and the 6 little blondies were unforgettably fun, and also gave me trusted resources from whom to bounce ideas off, and to find encouragement as I trekked through the new territory of homeschooling philosophies, child development and curricula.  We landed in an apartment complex with the perfect companions for the girls, who now have a built-in social network right out our back door starting with breakfast salutations from across the courtyard at 8a.m.  We've renewed friendships around the neighborhood, and joined teams and classes and the girls are doing just fine socially (for all those people who thought they might turn strange or introverted the moment we kept them home from school.)

The harder part was the academics.  And yes, I have a master's degree and Mike almost has a Ph.D., so it's not like we don't know how to read, or count to 100, or the order of the planets from the sun.  (Okay, I confess, I will have to look that one up.  But I know where to find the answer if it were a matter of life and death.)  The difficult part was - IS - knowing how much is too much and how much is too little.  I can read all the research out there that says kids learn to read anywhere between 4 and 7 years of age, and to rush that could be fatal to their love of learning, but it doesn't stop me from worrying that my bright 6 year old has no inclination to read.  In fact, she resisted it until recently, and that's why I'm celebrating every time she picks up her daddy's old Mr. Mugs books from 1980's Canada, and tells me she's ready to read, and that it's easy, and that it's FUN.

And that I can finally sit and quietly knit while she begins to entertain herself.