Today, my "happy homemaker" project was sorting through tons of outerwear that I've somehow amassed over the past couple of years. I managed to pare down and organize somewhat, and we actually really don't need much for the girls at least, so that was gratifying. Just snowboots for Abra, and super-serious snow-ready mittens for both of them, and I think we're good.
Over the weekend, Dad and I between the two of us taught Abra how to tie shoelaces. She's gotten pretty good at it in a remarkably short period of time--in fact, this afternoon she tied her tennies not only all by herself but with no meaningful supervision, either. All I did was watch! Very exciting.
Tomorrow, the girls go to the dentist. It's a new dentist for us and she's actually a pediatric dentist several of our friend recommended. Abra went to my old dentist last year (had a little bitty cavity, rrrrgh), but this will be T-girl's first voyage. I'm sort of dreading it--on the one hand, Thalia looooooves brushing her teeth. She's kind of a maniac for oral hygiene. On the other hand, as completely adorable as she is, the girl has an underbite like a bulldog. It's a bit less dramatic now than it was when she first came home from China--back then, she didn't have all her teeth but had most of her lower ones. It's not as noticable now. Still, I'm really hoping that tomorrow doesn't mark the start of an annual observation by a trained professional of how bad my daughter's bite is and how many years it will be until she needs braces....
Monday, September 17, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Grammar Thug on Patrol
OK, I admit it--I'm kind of a grammar facist. Not that I never, ever in casual writing/speaking misuse grammar, but in even semi-formal speaking and certainly in any but the most loose, informal writing, I get things correct. What's more, it annoys me when other people don't, at least people who should know better. I can't help it. I come by it honestly, what with my mom being a queen grammar facist herself and a retired English teacher to boot.
Anyway, on Thursday my friend Rachel called me from work. Rachel is the mother of Abra's buddy Lily, also a Kindergartener, who lives just a few doors down from us. Rachel was calling to vent. It's KRA-L time--that would be Kindergarten Readiness Assessment-Literacy. You know, dumb state-mandated tests because of course Ohio I'm sure has its own state version of NCLB. Rrrrrrgh. Presumably, there will also be some for Math, Social Studies, etc. Anyway, the first one was for literacy and it just tests children's development for reading purposes. On Wednesday, a note came home with Lily regarding how she did on the assessment. She did fine, but the subject of Rachel's rant was GRAMMAR MISTAKES IN THE NOTE FROM THE TEACHER!!!! She wanted to know if I'd gotten the same note, since Abra and Lily are not in the same class.
So Abra's KRA-L note came home Friday. Rachel saw it and said, yes, same note. So at least it's not Lily's teacher who's the doofus. But I read through it and found the following sentence: "It gives both you and I information about how to best build upon your child's literacy strengths and also how to address their needs." OK, maybe those aren't the most horrible mistakes you can possibly make, but a threefer in one sentence! In a note about MY CHILD'S LITERACY LEVEL! Yeesh. At least, we've established that our teachers didn't write the notes (as far as we know--maybe one of the teachers wrote up the note and they all used it). But what's worse is that the author of the note is probably some flunky who's in charge of setting up our kids' literacy curriculum or something.
For those of you wondering, Abra did fine. She got 27 of 28 possible on her score. This prompted Dad to say, "She missed one?!?! Is there a hanging chad somewhere??" Heh. She did get a smiley note from Mrs. Murphy saying that Abra is off to a great start.
Anyway, on Thursday my friend Rachel called me from work. Rachel is the mother of Abra's buddy Lily, also a Kindergartener, who lives just a few doors down from us. Rachel was calling to vent. It's KRA-L time--that would be Kindergarten Readiness Assessment-Literacy. You know, dumb state-mandated tests because of course Ohio I'm sure has its own state version of NCLB. Rrrrrrgh. Presumably, there will also be some for Math, Social Studies, etc. Anyway, the first one was for literacy and it just tests children's development for reading purposes. On Wednesday, a note came home with Lily regarding how she did on the assessment. She did fine, but the subject of Rachel's rant was GRAMMAR MISTAKES IN THE NOTE FROM THE TEACHER!!!! She wanted to know if I'd gotten the same note, since Abra and Lily are not in the same class.
So Abra's KRA-L note came home Friday. Rachel saw it and said, yes, same note. So at least it's not Lily's teacher who's the doofus. But I read through it and found the following sentence: "It gives both you and I information about how to best build upon your child's literacy strengths and also how to address their needs." OK, maybe those aren't the most horrible mistakes you can possibly make, but a threefer in one sentence! In a note about MY CHILD'S LITERACY LEVEL! Yeesh. At least, we've established that our teachers didn't write the notes (as far as we know--maybe one of the teachers wrote up the note and they all used it). But what's worse is that the author of the note is probably some flunky who's in charge of setting up our kids' literacy curriculum or something.
For those of you wondering, Abra did fine. She got 27 of 28 possible on her score. This prompted Dad to say, "She missed one?!?! Is there a hanging chad somewhere??" Heh. She did get a smiley note from Mrs. Murphy saying that Abra is off to a great start.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
"Feeling Sad" post
This will be a long rambler. The morning started off with Luciano Pavarotti's inhumanly beautiful tenor on the radio, signalling his death. I spent part of the morning on You Tube, looking up clips. Hearing him sort of took me back to college, actually--during and perhaps slightly after his artistic heyday but in the height of his rock star-level fame. Voice majors at Oberlin would sometimes argue about whether they preferred Pavarotti or Domingo.
Then I read Glenn Greenwald's column this morning. He's writing a book about how right-wing opinion-makers and mouthpieces so often use words full of faux macho swagger to pump themselves up while simultaneously denigrating left-leaners, and yet they themselves very often do not embody even stereotypical ideals of masculinity. He quoted noted right-wing nutcase Jonah Goldberg, who when writing in the National Review of his support for going to war in Iraq in late August 2002, simultaneously made these two points. First, if you're tired of the schoolyard bully "pantsing" you at recess every day, the best thing you can do is punch him square in the nose and then stand your ground. Second (in part II of the same series), he stated that "every ten years or so, the United States needs to pick up some small crappy little country and throw it against the wall, just to show the world we mean business." In other words, we should be a schoolyard bully, pantsing "small crappy little countries" at recess. By Goldberg's own logic, explain to me again why someone should not punch us in the nose, and then stand their ground? Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick. Is he both evil AND stupid, or just evil??
Then I just started getting personally melancholy. It bears repeating that I am not particularly good at being a stay at home mom. I don't have 15 enriching things for my kids to do every day. And I miss Abra more than I expected to. Back when I was a single mom, I dropped the kids off at day care every day at 8 a.m., didn't pick them up until 5 or later, and was emotionally fine. But now, I worry. I worry that she's sad during the day. I worry that she'll get bullied and won't know how to deal with it. I worry that THE TEACHER WON'T SEE THE OBVIOUS TRUTH THAT SHE'S CLEARLY THE SMARTEST KID IN THE CLASS!!! (Heh--but kind of seriously). And I worry that I won't find a job I love like what I had back in Wisconsin, and that I'll have come all this way just to take a job--stay-at-home-mom--which is a noble job but which is one for which I'm ill-suited and one which neither my husband nor I envisioned me having.
Plus, I've been to the hairdresser exactly ONCE since my wedding day, and I've gained about 10 or 15 of my weight watchers pounds back, and I look like shit.
PITY PARTY FOR BRENNA!!!!
Then I read Glenn Greenwald's column this morning. He's writing a book about how right-wing opinion-makers and mouthpieces so often use words full of faux macho swagger to pump themselves up while simultaneously denigrating left-leaners, and yet they themselves very often do not embody even stereotypical ideals of masculinity. He quoted noted right-wing nutcase Jonah Goldberg, who when writing in the National Review of his support for going to war in Iraq in late August 2002, simultaneously made these two points. First, if you're tired of the schoolyard bully "pantsing" you at recess every day, the best thing you can do is punch him square in the nose and then stand your ground. Second (in part II of the same series), he stated that "every ten years or so, the United States needs to pick up some small crappy little country and throw it against the wall, just to show the world we mean business." In other words, we should be a schoolyard bully, pantsing "small crappy little countries" at recess. By Goldberg's own logic, explain to me again why someone should not punch us in the nose, and then stand their ground? Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick. Is he both evil AND stupid, or just evil??
Then I just started getting personally melancholy. It bears repeating that I am not particularly good at being a stay at home mom. I don't have 15 enriching things for my kids to do every day. And I miss Abra more than I expected to. Back when I was a single mom, I dropped the kids off at day care every day at 8 a.m., didn't pick them up until 5 or later, and was emotionally fine. But now, I worry. I worry that she's sad during the day. I worry that she'll get bullied and won't know how to deal with it. I worry that THE TEACHER WON'T SEE THE OBVIOUS TRUTH THAT SHE'S CLEARLY THE SMARTEST KID IN THE CLASS!!! (Heh--but kind of seriously). And I worry that I won't find a job I love like what I had back in Wisconsin, and that I'll have come all this way just to take a job--stay-at-home-mom--which is a noble job but which is one for which I'm ill-suited and one which neither my husband nor I envisioned me having.
Plus, I've been to the hairdresser exactly ONCE since my wedding day, and I've gained about 10 or 15 of my weight watchers pounds back, and I look like shit.
PITY PARTY FOR BRENNA!!!!
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