Finding Joy in Snarkville

Let’s just face it, my idea of truly roughing it is 3 stars (or possibly a motel room with the door to the outside and bathroom in the back).  I’m not a girl that was built for serious roughing it — in the out of doors, where there is dirt and such. It might come as a bit of  shock that I once LOVED camping!

Granted, I loved it when I was 12 and frankly did 1/3 of the real work for the camping bits — and as a girl scout, I camped mostly (ok, completely) in cabins with you know beds!  I think the closest to true roughing it was a single overnight as part of a long hike thingie on one my weeks at camp in the summer.  I think I didn’t even pitch that tent.  Fits I can pitch — tents, not so much.

Well, this school year dawned with my son (pretty much all on his own) BEGGING to be a Cub Scout.  I had no desire to be a cub scout mommy — somehow though, resistance isn’t my best, I’m one of his den leaders.  Now I love exactly 1/2 the boys in my den — a few of them are wild beasts of children, but all in all it works.  Well, in the Fall there was a camp out that we went for the dinner bits and didn’t stay over (mostly because we no longer own a tent).  And this past weekend, there was a Winter Camp-In.

What is a Camp-In you ask?  Well, it appears in the land of ice and snow, camping outside with small children is cruel, so we go somewhere warm for the night.  In this case, we went to a local nature center and stayed in their exhibits.  The place is COOL.  However, setting up my sleeping area in the section between the bullfrog and the stuffed white tailed deer — not so cool! The frog was mercifully quiet (I suspect truly dead, but I wasn’t going to say anything) and I took great delight in telling people I has “Deer Butt” view for accommodations.   No, it didn’t get old (to me).

We ate dinner, went on a night hike (to talk about night vision — but sadly it wasn’t dark enough to really do that — I think we taught the boys more about light pollution than anything else), there were crafts, there was a movie (Night at the Museum, who’s shocked?) and then there was a lack of sleep.  I had to run out to walk the dog in the late night and returned to find my son (who had fallen deeply and soundly asleep in the movie) trying to find our Deer Butt ‘room’ — he was so sleepy he got lost.  He changed into his PJs and crawled into his sleeping bag and asked if I could make the other boys be quiet already.  (I see years of him being the life of the party at a sleep over ahead.)

As I stretched out to sleep myself, thanking the Scouts and the Nature Center for allowing me my air mattress, I heard the din of boys not settling in and wondered briefly, ‘How will tomorrow go?’  When my eyes opened in the morning, I woke up to most of the families already packing up (at the insanely late hour of 7am).  I began to pack up, Duke went running around.  The boys were fed sugar and milk and sent on their way home.

I think in hindsight (deer butt hindsight) the idea of camping-in is FAR better than the dirt of camping out.  However, that said, it is not nearly as much fun as camping out in the hotel.

I’ve been a wee bit quiet on the education front of my wee off-spring.  Oh sure, Duke is surely being educated, but I’ve been quiet because I really have a fear of the competition.  Frankly, I don’t want to hear that your wee one was conjugating Latin verbs at 3.  While that might be fine for you, I don’t care and I refuse to feel that I’m in a battle of who’s the better mommy.

Then there was tonight.  I decided last night to sit down and make a real effort to read a non-picture book for bedtime.  I decided to read A Bear Called Paddington.  Prince and I purchased this book for Duke in London years ago.  I’m pretty sure we got it when we were there and I was pregnant with him, but it could have been the time the three of us were in London the first time.  I have never read this book to Duke*.

So, last night I curled up on his bed and endured the complaints about the lack of photos and we began to read.  Now, I’ve noticed lately that Duke’s comprehension of the stories is getting really strong (he had a real physical reaction to the Giving Tree — sadness–and I nearly cried myself watching him empathized with a tree) and he was paying attention**.  A page in his “reading finger” came out and pointed to the words as I read them.  Slowly, I would pause on words I was pretty sure he’d know.  The first one was “Brown” (and in Mr. & Mrs. Brown), then came another and another.  Sight words mostly, but seriously many more words than I thought he knew.

As we read that first chapter, he would read a few words here and there.  At the end of the chapter (and trust me those chapters are LONG if you are reading them with a reading finger and one word at a time), I hugged him and told him what a good job reading he is doing.  And I promptly didn’t think about it again, until Chapter 2.

Tonight, he declared that he could read some of the words.  He would follow along closely with the book and if I read a word he knew, he’d make me back up so he could read it.  I have a mental tally of the words I’m not allowed to read — much like I used to have a mental tally of the words he could say, until the number got too great for me to count.  He sounded out a few words he wasn’t clear on, but he wasn’t guessing.  He knows the words.

I have goose bumps because I know he is peeking in the lock of a whole new world.  I can see how excited he is that he can read and wants to do it himself.  He is didn’t want to stop though he was so tired he would lay down between his words (even if they were next to each other).  I so remember when he began to speak and the three words he knew turned into sentences and suddenly he didn’t stop talking.  We have stood on the edge of this leap for a long time and finally, I’m watching the words come together.

*This is important because Duke has an amazing memory.  He can hear a book once and just know the words.  It will appear he is reading it, but sadly, it is all memory with the pictures as a reminder.  I know this is why he has picked up so many sight words so fast.

** The moment I knew he was into the book was when Paddington laments that his name is too hard to say in English.  Duke’s great response was “bummer.”

This weekend, Duke was playing in his room.  He was building a full reproduction of the transcontinetal railroad with a small reproduction of the Los Angeles highway system.  It was INTENSE.

I’m sitting in my chair in another room trying to decide if I have enough energy to actually vacuum the whole floor or just stare at my naval (It had been a log weekend — we had a garage sale on Saturday and I’m not entirely sure I’m recovered yet).  Suddenly, Duke cries out from his room.

“FIRE. FIRE. FIRE.  Mama, FIRE.”

Prince and I drop everything and head back to his room.  I can’t imagine that there is actually fire, since I’m 90% sure I’ve not allowed him to have matches in his bedroom yet.  But you never know, so we ran.

Prince makes it there first and sees Duke backing away from the bin containing even more track and pointing, “Fire. Fire in there.”

Prince looks.  Nothing is burning. “Could you possibly mean, SPIDER?”

“oh, yes.”

Oh, I have 1,000 things that stress me out right now.  No fewer than 900 things make me want to cry, curl up in a ball, or spend hours hiding under my bed.  But I set all of those things aside to share with you that my son is a Pick-Up Artist.

Today, it is 1 Billion degrees in Snarkville and as we all know Frankenhouse doesn’t have AC.  We were melting.  So moments after school let out today, I was rushing Duke off from one errand to another in an effort to find AC.  (To tell you how bad it was, we canceled a playdate because our house was an oven.)  So, we drove from store to store to store.  We wandered the aisles everywhere in order to stay slightly cooler.

Finally, I decided to get a library card.  It has been on my to do list for a long time, in fact I can’t remember when I had my last library card.  That admission is sad, but today, probably more because the library is a air-cooled space with free wi-fi, I got my library card.  Duke walked in and instantly spotted the children’s area.  Remember he’s never been to the library here before.  (I know I am a horrible mother.)

I got my card and then we checked out the kids library.  It was pretty cool.  They have a huge wall of books just for him — and so I told him to pick out a few books to read and we will bring them home.  (My amazing boy picked out some pretty cool books.)  Then he spotted that there were computers for the kids.

So, I logged him on (you have to have a library card) and got him his 60 minutes on the computer, while I surfed the collection on the computer next to him — which allowed me to request a few books of my own.  (I have the power of the card, now.)  We are chatting and playing and enjoying the lack of sweat.

All of a sudden this little girl walks right up to Duke and the following occurs:

Girl: Hi. (Sheepish smile.)

Duke: Hi, I’m playing on this computer.

Girl: My name is Isabella.

Duke:

Me: That’s a pretty name.  Duke, introduce yourself.

Duke: I’m Duke.  I’m wearing a green shirt.

Girl: I’m wearing a yellow shirt with pink flowers and purple butterflies.

Duke: (Smiling BIG) I really like butterflies.

The girl wanders off and draws at a table close by.  She comes back and hands David a slip of paper.  (It is all scribble.)

Duke to me: What is that? (Hands me the paper.)

Me: I think she wrote you a note.

Girl: HHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIII, Duke.

Duke: A note?  (turns to girl): I’m 5.

Girl: I’m 3, I just had a birthday.

I chat with the girl a bit and her sitter comes over to take her and her little sister home.  As they walk out of the library, Isabella says over her shoulder to Duke, “Call me.”

For Duke’s part, he’s not letting go of that note at all.  I think he’s smitten — but I fear he’s fallen for a girl who doesn’t know her phone number yet.

In two short days I will take Duke on a walk that ends with me leaving him in the hands of teachers who will spend 3 hours and 20 minutes a day teaching my son to read, write, and keep his finger out of his nose.  I will then turn around and walk into the quad where the PTA is hosting a coffee — I’m fairly sure there will be Kleenex for parents there too. (more…)

Ok, so, I make a ton of hot breakfasts in my house.  It seems Duke does not do cold breakfast, like cereal.  Now, I’ll grant that I’m not a huge fan of Cheerios (unless covered in yummy, yummy sugar or honey or both), but my son never, no never, was a Cheerios eater.  In fact, when other parents began to chat about getting their kids to make their own breakfasts of cereal and milk, I was wondering if I’d still be making pancakes daily when I send him to college.

So, Summer Quest 2008 began (more…)

I know all of you are uber worried about if Duke will miss any of his shows or how we shall handle this.  (Also, Alison, my question to you is ‘what do you do when you are knitting?’  I mean I get that I can no longer sit in front of the TV and not do something else — so what’s the other thing you do while you knit?)

First, know that as Duke is maturing so are his shows.  He has abandoned his love affair with the Dirty Jobs and even American Chopper.  Today, his heart beats for Top Gear, a BBC car show.  He loves it and now loves everything about cars.

(Odd side note:  When I went to see my doctor last week, he was asking me what kinds of things does Duke like to do now that he’s nearly 5.  I said, he’s really into cars lately.  The doctor asks, “oh, is your husband a ‘Car Guy’?”  My response, “In as much as he drives one, yes.  However, I think my son who takes delight in naming all the cars he sees on the road and is BEGGING for me to buy him a Ferrari stole ‘Car Guy’ status in our family.”)

So, in the DVR to TIVO change out, we will have a bit of a loss of Top Gear — which is fine, because frankly, I need a break.  We will get to see tonight’s episode (hopefully the wind won’t blow and we can see it) and then have a week off until the new TIVO can record some for us.

Duke shall be fine.  Why?  How can I be so sure?

Simple, he now has a computer (Strictly controlled by his over-protective Mama).  He loves it.  He is in charge of it and is mostly really good with the rules.  We’ve done this for about two weeks now — he is limited on sites he can visit (made easier because is appears that the Mac and some sites don’t get along) and how long he can be on the computer.

On Thursday, Prince told Duke to turn the computer off and come to dinner.  When Prince didn’t see Duke jump up instantly, Prince began to remind him to COME.TO.DINNER.NOW.  Duke rolls his eyes and looks up and says, “I have to click on the Apple, DAAAAAD.”  “No, you need to turn it off and come to dinner.” At that point, Prince looks at the computer and realized the apple he was clicking was so he could log off.  That’s my boy.

When Duke isn’t informing me how to drive when we are in the car, he is ordering his own fleet of cars around our home with the intensity of your average prison warden.  He is, um, SERIOUS about his cars.  As I’m typing this he is ‘racing’ a car and an airplane on the deck of an aircraft carrier.  (Yes, I know where he gets these ideas, thank you, Top Gear.)

Anyway, the point is that he’s a ‘car guy’ in the making — though I’m doubtful that he will be changing his own oil or restoring a classic Mustang; he seems to like cars.  That said, he’s been discussing getting a driver’s license (this may be the result of the popular phrase while driving “If you don’t have a driver’s license you may NOT comment on my driving.”) and driving his car.

I present to you, Duke’s request for Christmas — he would like a ‘Duke-Sized Car,’ specifically this one:

I’m sure it will fit under the tree, right?

My son is a backseat driver.  Oh, if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.  Duke is more than a backseat driver, he is more of a backseat dictator.  He feels that he massive amounts of driving experience (i.e., none) affords him the knowledge of the rules of the road.

Case in point, he once (ok, honestly, MORE than once) argued the Queen Mum down about if she was allowed to  make a right turn on red.  He firmly held for the longest time that since red lights mean stop then you were not allowed to stop and then make a right turn.  I can not tell you how long we took to try to convince him otherwise, but alas we did.  Then he decided that you could not make a left turn without a green arrow, so what about all those intersections without turn lanes or green arrows??  See, to argue is pointless and may be the cause of my twitch.

So, given this, I’ve been forced (for my own sanity that is) to try to teach my future driver what the various street signs mean.  I’ve done very well with the various kinds of parking spaces we can’t park in (dang those blue spaces) and the traffic light colors and meanings.  Then today, he spotted a sign and he decided he would tell me what it means.

First the sign:

Duke’s Traffic Lesson:

“That sign means ‘No Smoking when driving backwards’”

Now you know.  Go forth and drive in good health, both smoke-free and driving in reverse on a major road.

Yesterday I plucked my poor son out of his school.  We stormed out of the door declaring that the fence gate would not hit us on the way out in our bottoms.  Alas, this storming may have looked a lot more like sniffling and cupcake eating — but it was storming nonetheless. (more…)