The Flynnster

When I wrote a check today, I wrote the year as "2009".  Because five years ago you entered our lives.

You are fiercely independent.  I'm certain the only thing preventing you from going to the taco truck alone when you were three was the height of the gate latch.

You are your own person.  You can rock a fuzzy boa and backward pants like no other.

You are inquisitive.  I didn't know one person could ask so many questions.

You bring such joy, especially when you throw your head back and laugh like Snoopy.

Thanks for being my kid.

Critical Thinking

Studies are starting to come out about the dangers of overdosing on standardized testing.  I'm pretty confident the result is the lack of critical thinking skills.  Case in point: a student in my "Writing About Literature" class wrote a post for help because she couldn't find on which page Oedipus started.

...

Seriously.

Table of Contents ring a bell?

...

Anyone...?

I'm so glad one of her classmates responded.  I don't think I could have responded without being condescending and snarky.  Oh, and I told the class the chapter number of the play.  *smh*

Fortunately, there is hope somewhere out there.  I have met some really imaginative kids lately.  Today during before-school care, C (who I think is in 3rd grade), came in carrying The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes.   He then approached the other teacher and I, wondering if we had any mysteries to solves.  He asked for clues, which he wrote down in his notebook.  Mr. M (the other teacher) made up a mystery for the boy.  C asked really good questions about the "mystery".  It's so refreshing to see a young person thinking and analyzing.  I'm certain he will be able to find the starting page of Oedipus.

Labels

If, hypothetically speaking, one were to set a goal for sometime in the future, but during the time needed to achieve that goal, the person's whole existence was redefined, would that person be considered a loser for not meeting the original goal?  I'm asking for a, uh, friend.

Didn't buy that answer, huh?  Me, neither.  As I see the big 4-Oh on the horizon, I've been beating myself up for not being even remotely close to meeting an arbitrary goal I set for myself a couple of years ago (to be achieved before turning 40).  Never mind that everything has changed in quite dramatic fashion since I made that goal.  Still, I cling to it, and belittle myself for not working toward it.  I try not to go down that path that leads to the shame spiral.  (Tick-tock.  Five months left to go.  Get a move on, girl!)

Is it acceptable to change goals?  Or is one perceived as a quitter for not seeing it through?

I'm a Walker, not a Baker

What it was supposed to look like

The result

Totally nailed it

Production guilt

Scene: Drake finished his latest Bee book.  It's quite the series, especially now that he can spell.  He chose the bee as the subject matter because he can draw one.

Drake: Mommy, do you like my new book?
Me:  Yes, Drake.  It's an awesome book.
Drake:  I know.

Mommy, when are you going to write your book?

...

Thanks a lot, kid.

Flynn's school time adventures

I'm getting the biggest kick out of Flynn attending school.  It's not just because the house is quiet and I can accomplish something during daylight hours.  It's his approach to school.  He'll actually tell me tidbits from his day.  Day 2 was "the funnest day ever!"  He sings the songs that he learns.  He introduced me to the lunch teacher:  Mrs. Something.  He saw a mime performance and described it.  (Mommy, a mime is an actor who reacts, and there's NOTHING THERE!)  I hope going to school doesn't lose its shine for him too quickly.

This makes me a horrible human being, doesn't it?

This week, I am volunteering my B4K time and equipment at a day camp for a local church.  (For future reference, if I ever agree to do something like this for free again, please slap me.)  And, as the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished.  Yesterday, I met the human version of Draco Malfoy and his two cronies.  I don't know if the kid could perform magic; most likely not, since the church is rather conservative and probably forbids the reading of Harry Potter and its Devil-magic.  When I was younger, I was one of those cronies, always wanting to be accepted by the popular, charismatic one.  I wanted to be noticed and be a part of the elusive inner sanctum.  Draco was the charismatic kid with the strong personality.  I'm sure he gets his way in every walk of life, and, if not, convinces others to get stuff for him.  Because of the numbers in the class, there was a group of three (which I despise doing).  He, naturally, was a part of the group of three with his two cronies.  Draco spent ten minutes in the middle of the build using the power drill model they were constructing as a gun.  He gave me nothing but attitude and snark during the class, letting me know he was better than I.  When it wasn't his step to build, he was in the face and openly belittling another kid in the class.  So what if that other kid was working on a simpler version of the drill; that awkward kid finished.  Draco and his group did not.  One of the cronies came to me upset.  "But, we didn't finish."  My response: "I know, sweetie.  But remember, one of your group mates spent ten minutes playing with the model before it was finished."  I felt bad for the crony.  He watched the awkward kid laugh and have fun with his finished model.  It's a hard lesson to learn, about standing up for yourself.  I told him to remember this for tomorrow and maybe he could work with a different partner, for tomorrow's build involves a remote control.

Today, the kids bounded into the room, psyched for the build.  Motors and remotes!  I made all of them partner with someone.  There was an even number today, so no groups of three.  Draco tried to convince me he needed to be in a group of four.  I said no because the group of three couldn't finish yesterday.  One of the cronies had to be away from Draco.  The crony was pretty bummed to be away from his leader.  The build started, and funny, every group but Draco's finished and had enough time to attach the remotes and play.  The discarded crony had finished and was racing his bulldoze model across the room.  At two minutes before clean up, Draco hands me his model.  "We aren't done."  What little was done was completely incorrect.  I have no idea what instructions he was following because it certainly wasn't what I had given him.  I was able to rig something together so it would move, but no remote was able to be attached.  He never asked for help.  He never attempted to give any effort.  He was humbled.  And I was thrilled (on the inside, of course).  He wasn't the top dog, the MVP,  the go-to guy, the golden boy.  He was just like the rest of those kids are on any given day.  He finally knew what those other kids felt like, the ones he openly mocks every day.  And guess what, the other kids were having too much fun to make fun of Draco for not finishing or not having skills or not being the best.  I'm probably a horrible person to be so happy that he had that lesson.  He'll probably go back to being his normal self tomorrow.  I hope his cronies stop elevating him to God-like status and learn to stand up for themselves.