There is something so sweet about doing well on a test. Some of Vee's test scores came back from one of many, many tests he has taken lately and he got 100% accuracy in several in sub-subjects. (Try saying "sub-subjects" 10x fast.)
My favorite score? 100% in Literary Response & Analysis.
For those of you who know us and know where we have been and the road we have travelled, you will fully appreciate the depth of my gratitude in that particular score.
And yes, I understand that grades don't always measure ability accurately, but I know that this guy can dig deep into literature and find the treasures. I know because I talk to him about the books he reads and I see how he responds to text. I'm proud of his ability. It is highly rewarding to see my beliefs confirmed.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Vocab Dev
Yesterday afternoon, Jee was in the process of trying to rehang his calendar on the wall and I suppose he needed a nail, but he asked...
"Mom, can you get me a lock poker?"
"What?"
"A lock poker."
(befuddled look on my face)
"A lock poker! A thing that you poke in the door lock to unlock it. You know!"
Oh... why didn't he ask for "a nail"? Note for those who don't live in our home: we use regular hammer-it-into-the-wall nails to open doors. No fancy pantsy lock picks for us.
What I thought odd was that he defined that particular object by its most common use in his view of the world. Nails were designed first and foremost to pick locks.
He also understood the difference between "pick" and "poke". You don't really pick at the lock; that's a task better fitted for the fingers. You poke at the lock mechanism clumsily with the sharp end of the nail. Lock poker.
Funny how vocabulary develops.
"Mom, can you get me a lock poker?"
"What?"
"A lock poker."
(befuddled look on my face)
"A lock poker! A thing that you poke in the door lock to unlock it. You know!"
Oh... why didn't he ask for "a nail"? Note for those who don't live in our home: we use regular hammer-it-into-the-wall nails to open doors. No fancy pantsy lock picks for us.
What I thought odd was that he defined that particular object by its most common use in his view of the world. Nails were designed first and foremost to pick locks.
He also understood the difference between "pick" and "poke". You don't really pick at the lock; that's a task better fitted for the fingers. You poke at the lock mechanism clumsily with the sharp end of the nail. Lock poker.
Funny how vocabulary develops.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Scary. Bagels.
We biked to the bagel bakery early this morning to get some of the best bagels on the west coast.
Yum.
Switch gears. You know when you're on a bike and you pedal as hard as you can, so fast that it feels like your feet will fly off if you pedal any faster? Well, imagine pedalling that fast on a stretch of open road and (drumroll please) my son is running alongside me.
The scary part is that his sprint is the same mph as my pedal-as-fast-as-I-can. How awesome! A little scary too. Either I'm a slug or he's a cheetah. Or somewhere inbetween.
Yum.
Switch gears. You know when you're on a bike and you pedal as hard as you can, so fast that it feels like your feet will fly off if you pedal any faster? Well, imagine pedalling that fast on a stretch of open road and (drumroll please) my son is running alongside me.
The scary part is that his sprint is the same mph as my pedal-as-fast-as-I-can. How awesome! A little scary too. Either I'm a slug or he's a cheetah. Or somewhere inbetween.
Friday, May 2, 2008
How to get your kids to do stuff
I just found such a great way to get the kids to do things that they need to do, but don't necessarily want to do:
"This is what SMART people do..."
Oh boy, they love it. They're eating broccoli, taking care of their chores, cleaning out the car, all because smart people eat broccoli for the B vitamins; do their chores for the fringe benefits of having a clean home; clean out the car, well, because, that's what smart people do! Who knew they respected intelligence so much?
Maybe they respect it because it's in such short supply?
Hum...
"This is what SMART people do..."
Oh boy, they love it. They're eating broccoli, taking care of their chores, cleaning out the car, all because smart people eat broccoli for the B vitamins; do their chores for the fringe benefits of having a clean home; clean out the car, well, because, that's what smart people do! Who knew they respected intelligence so much?
Maybe they respect it because it's in such short supply?
Hum...
Muddling through
One of my friends has the coolest sig line:
"Walking through the water,
just like everyone else,
trying to get across."
"Walking through the water,
just like everyone else,
trying to get across."
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Three minutes
I love writing schedules; I love complex feats of timing; I love hearing the clock in the background with that gentle "chick" that says when each second has passed.
I love time.
I wish it loved me back.
The other day I realized, a bit late, that I had only three minutes to get to my daughter's school to pick her up. Of course, I could fly out the door and probably get there on time, but I looked at my sorry self and realized that I needed a shower. Hum. Three minutes. Just how quickly could I shower? And get to the school not dripping, fully clothed, and more presentable than I currently was?
I decided to give it a try. I showered, dressed, dried my hair (mostly), made myself presentable and got there on time. What a rush of self-satisfaction.
Unfortunately, all this did was make me want to do this deadline crunch every day. As if I needed yet another excuse to push the limits.
I love time.
I wish it loved me back.
The other day I realized, a bit late, that I had only three minutes to get to my daughter's school to pick her up. Of course, I could fly out the door and probably get there on time, but I looked at my sorry self and realized that I needed a shower. Hum. Three minutes. Just how quickly could I shower? And get to the school not dripping, fully clothed, and more presentable than I currently was?
I decided to give it a try. I showered, dressed, dried my hair (mostly), made myself presentable and got there on time. What a rush of self-satisfaction.
Unfortunately, all this did was make me want to do this deadline crunch every day. As if I needed yet another excuse to push the limits.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
93
Jee and I walked to the library for our Monday library trip and as we left the front porch, I got a phone call, a long phone call. As we walked, I talked and Jake was his wonderful, patient self walking alongside me, noticing the world and walking in his jagged little "Ooo, what's that?" walk.
When I ended the phone call about nine blocks later, I heard him saying, "91, 92, 93..." I asked what he was doing.
"Counting litter. There are so many people who just let litter leave their hands. They shouldn't drop it. 94. They should keep it... 95... in their hands until... 96... they get to a garbage can..."
His little pro-cleanliness talk rambled on for the last four blocks to the library. What an awesome little guy. He loves seeing the world take shape through numbers and other graspable concepts.
When I ended the phone call about nine blocks later, I heard him saying, "91, 92, 93..." I asked what he was doing.
"Counting litter. There are so many people who just let litter leave their hands. They shouldn't drop it. 94. They should keep it... 95... in their hands until... 96... they get to a garbage can..."
His little pro-cleanliness talk rambled on for the last four blocks to the library. What an awesome little guy. He loves seeing the world take shape through numbers and other graspable concepts.
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