Yesterday, Jee and his friend Zee were playing a game and asked "What does 'torque' mean?"
In Firefox, they did CTRL T, typed "w", "i", selected "www.wikipedia.org" then searched for "torque". They read a bit then applied it, exploring the concept using their elbows as the fulcrum, and their arms as the lever, each putting force on the other's arm and judging how far they were from the fulcrum, er, elbow.
This made me so blissfully happy because:
1. they can read
2. they knew where to access this knowledge
3. they naturally applied it
Jee and his friend are both 6 yo, teeny little guys, about 42 lbs of human being each and they are exploring concepts such as this. It made me so blissfully happy.
Once I asked a particularly brilliant Econ professor, "Did your parents do anything in particular that helped foster your love for learning?" The answer was immediate and without even the slightest hesitation:
"An Encyclopedia in the kitchen"
I could see it in my mind's eye -- a set of thick hardback encyclopedias spanning the shelves of the big bookcase in my kitchen, but it jarred my mind enough that I could hear the marbles rolling around in my head.
Clink. Clink, clink.
I can't have an encyclopedia in my kitchen. It's stagnant, a set of knowledge that never changes until I throw out that chunk of tree and get a new encyclopedia.
Hum. I have a bookcase in my kitchen, but it is full of living knowledge, tools for creation: coloring books, origami papers, cookie cutters, journals, recipes in three-ring binders so they can be consistently updated as the family's tastes mature. It is an organic bookcase.
For a comprehensive knowledge tool, I can't do an encyclopedia, but I can do the Wiki. I put a dedicated laptop in the kitchen, but due to power consumption issues, I can't leave it on all the time, nor can we boot up a system every time we have a little question.
I haven't found a solution that sits well with me yet and that's why I was so blissfully happy when Jee and Zee did what I was hoping my kids would do -- ask a question, access the answer. Hum. One of the desktops uses only 2 watts. Maybe that would work...
There's a good chance that if Jee is accessing the wiki at this level at 6, by the time he's older, he might wish to be a wikipedian, contributing.
Back to laying groundwork.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Dancing
Jee and Aee had a performance at their school where all the kids performed dances from various regions. They were fully decked out in dance gear and wow, they were amazing little danceurs.
But the best part was seeing the entire school, from K to 5th, all performing class by class on the stage. Jee and Aee had friends from nearly every class in the school! I hadn't yet realized the breadth of their friendship circles .
But the best part was seeing the entire school, from K to 5th, all performing class by class on the stage. Jee and Aee had friends from nearly every class in the school! I hadn't yet realized the breadth of their friendship circles .
Breath
Aee's breath -- right now, beside me, breathing deep and dreamy. I can hear the patterns of her thoughts as her breath changes, sometimes fast (maybe thinking about puppy dogs or dancing?); sometimes slow (maybe dreaming about hanging upside down from a branch?)
Vee's breath -- when he was little and I would read stories to him & his bro, Vee's breath would always put me to sleep. Fast. Hard. His breath had a magical, trance-like quality to it. Resistance was futile.
Eee's breath -- he breathes in and I am so glad he's there; he breathes out and I'm so glad he's beside me. For whatever reason, his breath has become louder lately, but it doesn't matter -- it's all a verification that he is near me, with me, and alive.
Kee's breath and Jee's breath -- both of them have ultra-quiet, soft, easy, shy breathing patterns. I don't think I have ever heard either of them breath the deep sleepy breaths. Ever. Interesting.
My breath? From what I hear from the inside, it has a million different incarnations, some consciously driven, some not. Sometimes I direct my breath; sometimes I forget to breathe entirely (and even pass out because of it sometimes). Yes, I have problems. I know.
I think my favorite type of breath is the slow Bunny Breath that occurs when sleeping deeply. When all passages are clear and the sleep is deliciously deep, the breath is so little, so soft that is it that of a bunny, just like Kee & Jee, my bunny breathers.
Vee's breath -- when he was little and I would read stories to him & his bro, Vee's breath would always put me to sleep. Fast. Hard. His breath had a magical, trance-like quality to it. Resistance was futile.
Eee's breath -- he breathes in and I am so glad he's there; he breathes out and I'm so glad he's beside me. For whatever reason, his breath has become louder lately, but it doesn't matter -- it's all a verification that he is near me, with me, and alive.
Kee's breath and Jee's breath -- both of them have ultra-quiet, soft, easy, shy breathing patterns. I don't think I have ever heard either of them breath the deep sleepy breaths. Ever. Interesting.
My breath? From what I hear from the inside, it has a million different incarnations, some consciously driven, some not. Sometimes I direct my breath; sometimes I forget to breathe entirely (and even pass out because of it sometimes). Yes, I have problems. I know.
I think my favorite type of breath is the slow Bunny Breath that occurs when sleeping deeply. When all passages are clear and the sleep is deliciously deep, the breath is so little, so soft that is it that of a bunny, just like Kee & Jee, my bunny breathers.
A way to cover the shfits
Eee and I have been tired since our first one was born and now, only now, have we discovered a way to cover the 24/7 that comprises a parent's range of duty.
He works until 3 am; I get up at 3 am.
Every night when I read stories to Jee and Aee, my eyes get droopy, the melatonin kicks in and I want nothing more than to "rest for a minute". A while back I considered indulging in the urge to fall asleep at 7 pm. It felt wonderful. In the morning, my eyes fluttered open on their own, I had a good, long stretch, and my mind began kicking into action. Wow, that feels good.
For the last few months I have tried this on and off to see if it works for our family. I sleep from 7 pm to 3 am. Eee sleeps from 3 am to 8 am, gets the kids to school with me then sleeps some more.
I wish we had discovered something like this earlier. Every night, when there's a problem in the middle of the night (a child wakes up, the cat tips something over and wakes us up, a phone rings, someone's laptop or phones starts beeping low battery) there is always an awake parent to deal with it.
Night owl meets early bird.
I just wish we had figured this out during the little kid years. Moral of the story = respect your own inner clock. Take societal conventions with a grain of salt. Do what works for you.
He works until 3 am; I get up at 3 am.
Every night when I read stories to Jee and Aee, my eyes get droopy, the melatonin kicks in and I want nothing more than to "rest for a minute". A while back I considered indulging in the urge to fall asleep at 7 pm. It felt wonderful. In the morning, my eyes fluttered open on their own, I had a good, long stretch, and my mind began kicking into action. Wow, that feels good.
For the last few months I have tried this on and off to see if it works for our family. I sleep from 7 pm to 3 am. Eee sleeps from 3 am to 8 am, gets the kids to school with me then sleeps some more.
I wish we had discovered something like this earlier. Every night, when there's a problem in the middle of the night (a child wakes up, the cat tips something over and wakes us up, a phone rings, someone's laptop or phones starts beeping low battery) there is always an awake parent to deal with it.
Night owl meets early bird.
I just wish we had figured this out during the little kid years. Moral of the story = respect your own inner clock. Take societal conventions with a grain of salt. Do what works for you.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Bring it on
We had an amazing talk today about giving and *receiving*. It illuminated a few dark & dusty corners of my mind. It made me think about gratitude (fully accepting a gift, any type of gift) and how that gratitude makes you: 1. healthier, 2. more enjoyable to be around, and 3. open to future benefit.
The talk also made me think (yes, the pessimist came out for a moment): "Well, what if the gift really stinks? What if I don't want the purple sequined blouse with matching sequined socks?" or even worse, "What if I am actually offended by the gift? Like my friend whose husband bought her an exercise machine because, 'Well, aren't you worried about your thighs too?' What if it is an unequivocally yucky gift?"
As the divinely beautiful speaker was filling out the content of her talk (which was far more pleasant than my pessimistic musings in the background), I remembered what Paul said: "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Everything and I mean everything can be for our benefit if we so choose.
So, today I choose to accept the massive pile of dishes in the sink as a gift of time with my kids (who will help me even if it kills them).
And I choose to accept the challenge of teaching my children to come to me when they have a question rather than bellow "MOMMY!" (Isn't that typically the other way around, mother bellowing for children?)
I choose to accept my husband and children's help with various tasks as the day progresses even if their help is (from a child-who-shall-not-be-named) "Mom can I help?" then s/he proceeds to goof off persistently while in the work area where others are actually completing the work.
The talk covered "receiving the gift" whether it is socks, a beloved heirloom, or the Atonement. You receive; you are grateful; you are blessed. The whole talk centered around accepting loving interaction with others, perhaps as practice for accepting the ultimate?
So, our SSR time is up. Momma must stop blogging and get on with giving and receiving. Kudos to the dear sister who shook a little dust off of this part of my brain. Thank you.
I received your message to the best of my current ability.
Thank you.
The talk also made me think (yes, the pessimist came out for a moment): "Well, what if the gift really stinks? What if I don't want the purple sequined blouse with matching sequined socks?" or even worse, "What if I am actually offended by the gift? Like my friend whose husband bought her an exercise machine because, 'Well, aren't you worried about your thighs too?' What if it is an unequivocally yucky gift?"
As the divinely beautiful speaker was filling out the content of her talk (which was far more pleasant than my pessimistic musings in the background), I remembered what Paul said: "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Everything and I mean everything can be for our benefit if we so choose.
So, today I choose to accept the massive pile of dishes in the sink as a gift of time with my kids (who will help me even if it kills them).
And I choose to accept the challenge of teaching my children to come to me when they have a question rather than bellow "MOMMY!" (Isn't that typically the other way around, mother bellowing for children?)
I choose to accept my husband and children's help with various tasks as the day progresses even if their help is (from a child-who-shall-not-be-named) "Mom can I help?" then s/he proceeds to goof off persistently while in the work area where others are actually completing the work.
The talk covered "receiving the gift" whether it is socks, a beloved heirloom, or the Atonement. You receive; you are grateful; you are blessed. The whole talk centered around accepting loving interaction with others, perhaps as practice for accepting the ultimate?
So, our SSR time is up. Momma must stop blogging and get on with giving and receiving. Kudos to the dear sister who shook a little dust off of this part of my brain. Thank you.
I received your message to the best of my current ability.
Thank you.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Chocolate headache
One our partners sent us a box of chocolates for Christmas. I ate one. On an empty stomach.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Chocolate reduces your blood pressure, which for most people is a good thing, relaxing. But, for someone whose blood pressure is already too low, maybe not?
Chocolate on an empty stomach makes my head throb. The vessels restrict, tighten, like hundreds of little constrictors in my head.
Ouch.
Ouch.
Ouch.
When will I ever learn to respect my body's unique needs over the cultural norms?
From the wikipedia: "Research has shown that heroin addicts tend to have an increased liking for chocolate; this may be because it triggers dopamine release in the brain's reinforcement systems[22] — an effect, albeit a legal one, similar to that of cocaine."
And I would make a very poor druggie.
I like veggies, good sleep, good exercise, and that whole moderation thing.
Chocolate? Yeah, I know it's great for most people, but not for me.
So, if you ever give me a chocolate treat and I thank you with an "Oh great. Thanks A LOT." please don't take offense.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Chocolate reduces your blood pressure, which for most people is a good thing, relaxing. But, for someone whose blood pressure is already too low, maybe not?
Chocolate on an empty stomach makes my head throb. The vessels restrict, tighten, like hundreds of little constrictors in my head.
Ouch.
Ouch.
Ouch.
When will I ever learn to respect my body's unique needs over the cultural norms?
From the wikipedia: "Research has shown that heroin addicts tend to have an increased liking for chocolate; this may be because it triggers dopamine release in the brain's reinforcement systems[22] — an effect, albeit a legal one, similar to that of cocaine."
And I would make a very poor druggie.
I like veggies, good sleep, good exercise, and that whole moderation thing.
Chocolate? Yeah, I know it's great for most people, but not for me.
So, if you ever give me a chocolate treat and I thank you with an "Oh great. Thanks A LOT." please don't take offense.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Shifting perspective
On a popular blog a few years ago, a lady commented that she found Gen Conf boring.
My reaction was "WTF?"
Yes, it was an inappropriate reaction on so many levels.
My question to her: "Why are you bored?"
Answer: "Because I have heard the same msg over and over again since I was a kid."
My suggestion: "Why not try seeing it from someone else's perspective? It helps round out your view of the various principles. For example, if they are talking about repentance, try to pretend you are Jewish, Muslim, or maybe Buddhist and you are hearing this message for the first time. How would your perspective shift? What would your first, second, third reaction be?"
Answer: "But I'm not Jewish. I'm bored."
Sigh.
The conversation continued for too many messages and I got frustrated that some people prefer boredom over problem-solving. Ew.
I also realized that not everyone wants the multiple lenses. I love the lenses, always have.
Tonight's lens shift -- I'm running with Vee and Eee and I have the music blasting in my ears like the soundtrack to some awesome film. I can see Eee explaining something to Vee as they run. I see the crease in Eee's brow, then I see Vee mimic it. I see Eee's hands motion and I can tell by the gesture that he's probably explaining some concept based in mechanical engineering or possibly chemistry. Eee and Vee are completely enveloped in their mutual thought and since I have no sensory input from them other than the visual, my perception of their interaction is amplified. I can better see how they blend with each other without any voice to distract me. A shift in perspective, a different view of their relationship, and I am so grateful for the glimpse.
Then, later, as we're doing the long run home (a stretch of sidewalk past the scary woods part) I pull out in front and even though they are behind me, the moon is casting so that I can see their shadows on the ground in front of me. I feel like some sort of regal queen leading the way with my warriors flanking on both sides. I run faster. They do too. I pull onto the homestretch and sprint, but start to lose it on the last 50-60 feet. Vee sprints past me and motions, "Come on mom, you can do it." I can't actually hear what he's saying, but his motion is enough.
But I don't have it in me to keep going. I slow down.
Then the lyrics in my ears blast: "I just can't wake up." (Sum 41, "Chuck") Those of you who know me know how much I fought that during the tough years. Like the year when I needed 10-12 hrs of sleep a night every night. Like the day when I slept 20 hours out of 24. Yeah, I know what it's like to not be able to wake up. It feels like being under anesthesia while maintaining consciousness. You can hear everybody but you can't move. Your mind is awake and alive, but you can't do anything about it so your mind slowly starts to shut down. Fatigue bites.
"...just can't wake up." The energy surges because I know fatigue and this, my dears, is no where near real fatigue. I have been lax to not be more grateful for the lifting of it. I can push this supposed limit and I do. I caught up to Vee, again with my lungs stretching, cleansing. Man, that feels good.
It took a long time to walk it off.
A shift in perspective is a beautiful thing.
My reaction was "WTF?"
Yes, it was an inappropriate reaction on so many levels.
My question to her: "Why are you bored?"
Answer: "Because I have heard the same msg over and over again since I was a kid."
My suggestion: "Why not try seeing it from someone else's perspective? It helps round out your view of the various principles. For example, if they are talking about repentance, try to pretend you are Jewish, Muslim, or maybe Buddhist and you are hearing this message for the first time. How would your perspective shift? What would your first, second, third reaction be?"
Answer: "But I'm not Jewish. I'm bored."
Sigh.
The conversation continued for too many messages and I got frustrated that some people prefer boredom over problem-solving. Ew.
I also realized that not everyone wants the multiple lenses. I love the lenses, always have.
Tonight's lens shift -- I'm running with Vee and Eee and I have the music blasting in my ears like the soundtrack to some awesome film. I can see Eee explaining something to Vee as they run. I see the crease in Eee's brow, then I see Vee mimic it. I see Eee's hands motion and I can tell by the gesture that he's probably explaining some concept based in mechanical engineering or possibly chemistry. Eee and Vee are completely enveloped in their mutual thought and since I have no sensory input from them other than the visual, my perception of their interaction is amplified. I can better see how they blend with each other without any voice to distract me. A shift in perspective, a different view of their relationship, and I am so grateful for the glimpse.
Then, later, as we're doing the long run home (a stretch of sidewalk past the scary woods part) I pull out in front and even though they are behind me, the moon is casting so that I can see their shadows on the ground in front of me. I feel like some sort of regal queen leading the way with my warriors flanking on both sides. I run faster. They do too. I pull onto the homestretch and sprint, but start to lose it on the last 50-60 feet. Vee sprints past me and motions, "Come on mom, you can do it." I can't actually hear what he's saying, but his motion is enough.
But I don't have it in me to keep going. I slow down.
Then the lyrics in my ears blast: "I just can't wake up." (Sum 41, "Chuck") Those of you who know me know how much I fought that during the tough years. Like the year when I needed 10-12 hrs of sleep a night every night. Like the day when I slept 20 hours out of 24. Yeah, I know what it's like to not be able to wake up. It feels like being under anesthesia while maintaining consciousness. You can hear everybody but you can't move. Your mind is awake and alive, but you can't do anything about it so your mind slowly starts to shut down. Fatigue bites.
"...just can't wake up." The energy surges because I know fatigue and this, my dears, is no where near real fatigue. I have been lax to not be more grateful for the lifting of it. I can push this supposed limit and I do. I caught up to Vee, again with my lungs stretching, cleansing. Man, that feels good.
It took a long time to walk it off.
A shift in perspective is a beautiful thing.
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