For the record

That skateboarding class I have been complaining about all week turned out to have a permanent, deep, deep impression on Jee's brain.

Here's the background: I took Jee to skatecamp last week and it consumed so much of my week just getting him there and back that I didn't have time to see any of what he had learned. (Drop-off and pick-up were at a campground, not at the skate bowl.)

On Sunday afternoon, we met with a group of friends (two groups, unrelated, but both invited) at a nearby school playground and my big deal was, "I haven't seen Jee skateboard... Now I'll get to see what he learned at camp."

I was floored. He had speed, grace, and a new comfort level that didn't look much like a kid who had been on a board for only 14 days. He could do these funky swivel turns, little jumps, flips, and as he was cruising across the playground (about 50' wide, solid cement with a decent decline) he got up enough speed to do a few other tricks that I don't know the names of.

As we were leaving, I said to him, "Wow, Jake, that was amazing. I didn't know you could do all those tricks."

He looked at me with that look that says he's trying to be compassionate, but he knows I'm an idiot. In a calm, measured voice, he said: "What tricks? I didn't do any tricks. This isn't even a skate bowl. If you want to see tricks, take me to the skate bowl."

Wha..? Now I'm almost scared to take him to the skatebowl. What qualifies as a "trick" in his mind? A double-back-flip-with-a-twist? (Yes, my vocab in this area is weak.)

His instructors said they had never seen a kid pick it up so fast. Maybe I see what they mean?

The Subtext

As we were leaving Costco today, the cart was so heavy that it was hard to steer. (It didn't help that there were two wiggly kids dangling off the sides.) When we got to the car, we did the typical no-kids-in-the-car-until-we-get-this-unpacked rule. When we do this, I'm the cheerleader:

"Come on, you're doing great! Jee, look at your strong arms! Way to go... Aee what a catch!"

There was a businessman pulling his car carefully into the spot beside me and he witnessed a good chunk of our end-of-Costco experience. He smiled a wide, Southern smile and said, "Looks like you're getting them to help out!"

I smiled back and nodded, "Yep!"

As he walked away, I heard --- the subtext ---, those words that nearly everybody says under their breath or in their minds that is usually more honest, true, and to-the-point than their admitted first comment.

The subtext is the inside of the onion.

He said, "Good luck with that... Kids never help out."

I wish I hadn't heard him.

Curses to acute hearing.

Actually, it was good that I heard him. It reminded me to be more aware of my own subtext.

In this particular guy's case, his subtext was toxic. "Kids never help out." What the bleep?! Poor guy. Poorer kids related to that guy.

So, my wish is this: Let my subtext be honest, upbeat, and positive. Right now, my words are... well, you can see my words, but my subtext is... well, that's private. That's why it's unspoken, but awareness on a personal level is great.

The Magic Word

My daughter has discovered the one magic word that goes straight to my heart. I can not say "No" to her when she uses this word in a request.

Is it, "Please"?

No.

Is it, "Pretty please darling Queen Mother?"

Heavens, no.

It is a phrase that took me by surprise the first time she used it. She was asking me to come read her a story. I was busy (oh, how I hate this story!) and told her I would be there in a minute.

She lowered her voice, calmed her little body, and said with the utmost sincerity, "I ask you to come now... Namaste." She held her little hands together perfectly as if in prayer. She did the little bow. If you haven't seen it, the wiki describes it like this:

"When spoken to another person, it is commonly accompanied by a slight bow made with hands pressed together, palms touching and fingers pointed upwards, in front of the chest."

Her eyes softened; her little head bowed; and she pronounced the words that went like a dagger straight into the soft spot between my exterior dragon scales.

Why would "Namaste" effect me like this? Because it is one of those rare, purely powerful words. When you do yoga, a really good session of yoga in particular, and get to the "Namaste" part, it feels amazing. Amazing I tell you! It is a poignant word / image / sensation.

Literally, "Namaste" means, "The Divinity within me perceives and adores the Divinity within you." When your little daughter, a gift from above, so sincerely says that...

There is no other answer besides, "Yes."

Overheard at the dentist's office

Jee was at the dentist early one morning, getting a spacer put in. It's a great pediatric dentist and the hygienist was talking with him gently, helping him feel appreciated as a little human being rather than just a little human mouth. She asked if he was in school and he replied, “No, I'm on vacation. It's a school holiday.”

The hygienist kept asking questions about what he was doing during vacation and if he was doing anything particularly fun today. He said (and this totally made me laugh), “Today is my sister's birthday! But she's still 5 because she was born at 2:07 in the afternoon so she'll still be 5 until then. Then, at 2:07 she'll automatically be 6. I wonder how many seconds it was... I mean it probably wasn't 2:07 and 0 seconds. There were probably more seconds. I don't know how many seconds it was when she was actually born...” He looks over at me and I know we'll have a long talk in the car on the way home. How do you explain to a child the messiness and imprecision of birth?

I suspect the discussion will involve talk of doctor's declaration of both birth and death being a “moment of judgment” rather than the precise, easily identifiable moment. Jee's little eyes will widen with wonder first, understanding second. I love it when his eyes do that. It's like he's acquiring yet another truth in his repertoire.

Bad at math

I have always enjoyed math games, but I appear to have failed at the latest one.

What happens when you take an already-full 24 hour day and add an extra 4 hours of work into it?

Squeeeeeze.

It turns out that Jee's skateboarding camp is a full hour drive each way. I didn't bother to calculate ahead of time, before signing him up how that drive would impact the day.

It's worth it, oh so worth it, but wow, four hours? That's a beefy drive full of great audibooks ("Eat that Frog" and "Social Intelligence" and NPR shows).

It wasn't until this morning that I realized, "Doh! If I would have thought this out ahead of time, I would have realized that I can't do it."

Sometimes it helps to not think things through. Jee is having a great camping experience. Period.

Sometimes I forget...

...that we see the world through the lens of the Scientific Process.

Aee doesn't play; she experiments.

I don't cook; I mix substances for a desired outcome.

Jee doesn't read; he researches.

Kee doesn't "push the limits" like a teenager; he tests hypotheses and formulates results.

Vee doesn't discuss things; he analyses the wording and flow of thought, checking for consistency then gives results. Comments such as "Mom, that was an inconsistent flow of thought," is something I hear, then we straighten it out together. Sweet.

I bought a big jar of vinegar today. I'll give you three guesses what it will be used for...

Summer camps

Camps for the kids are costing us an arm, leg, and kidney, but the kids are blossoming.

Jee started his skateboarding camp today. It's an hour plus drive to the skate park, way out in the woods east of here, but the way his face lit up when he saw a whole crowd of skateboarding buddies... there's nothing else like it. He's so sparky.

And of course, he left his lunch in the car. We're driving home, thinking, "Whew, glad it's only a 2 hour drive to drop him off. And another 2 hr drive to pick him up. I don't think we could handle a much longer drive... Wait... Did he get his lunch?"

Doh!

So what, the drive was a little longer today, but the silver lining was that we needed to drive back to the skate bowl and got to see little Jee's first attempts at more complex skateboarding tasks. Kee and I just watched from a distance for a while before dropping off Jee's lunch. Jee is such a natural. He loosens up, studies the moves of the best skaters then mimics their moves. Sigh. It is really quite wonderful to see someone learning a new skill easily.

Aee started her art class today, starting with Impressionism. She actually studied up ahead of time, looking at sample art work so she'd be ready if the teacher asked questions. What was it Aee said... ? "I need some context. I don't know Impressionism yet." Then she dissected the word, asking if Impressionism had something to do with impressions. Sometimes I forget that she's still a little squirt who doesn't know how to tie her shoes yet.

Vee and Kee worked today, on daytime black-out so they can earn college funds w/o being distracted.