Thursday, October 25, 2007

Mr. Social

A friend who has a child in Theo's kindergarten class gave me this scoop on my son the other day: She said that her son has decided to befriend a child who is constantly getting in trouble. So one day when she was in volunteering she asked Mary, the teacher, why her son had to gravitate toward trouble, why couldn't her son become friends with Theo? Mary's response: "Oh Theo, he's way too busy with the girls." And he is. And he's loving it. We might have our hands full with this one in a few years.

Walking home from school

On Fridays, when I am cutting out early from work and rushing rushing to get home in time to pick the boys up from school, I can forget what a joy it is to walk and listen to them process their day. I never leave work early enough, and I should just pull up in front of the school, but I always drive the extra blocks in order to park the car at home and then sprint through the alley to get there on time...then we stroll home and the whole work week falls away as I listen to them chat. I can't remember exactly how this conversation went last week, but here's the gist of it:
Really, it wasn't a conversation because the only one talking was Eli.
"Well, she's finally on to someone else....In music class Gina (the teacher) has decided that Lazaro is her new project. Am I relieved. I mean, I feel bad for Lazaro. As she stands over him, getting him to try to sing over and over I want to go tell him that I know what it's like. But I don't want Gina to remember me and come back to working on me. It's weird...I feel bad for him but I am just so relieved that she's forgotten about me! I'll have to tell him not to worry, that she'll find someone else someday. I won't tell him that she worked on me for over a year..."

Sunday, October 21, 2007

The Wet Shower Policy

I admit this little tale is from yesteryear, but it makes me chuckle:

In the midst of an absolutely unorganized and crazy first day of swim lessons we found out that the YMCA has a policy about ‘wet showers’. We knew there was a shower policy and we had relunctantly abided, even though it could mean that you would shower and then end up waiting for many many minutes for your lesson to start, shivering away. So we’ve learned to wait to hit the showers until the teachers are whistling the kids into the pool. Some friends, new to the ways of Midway Y swim lessons, had been foolish enough to shower right when they arrived at the Y. 1 hour later, when the older daughter’s lesson actually looked like it was going to begin, Elizabeth, the over eager ‘deck manager’, asked Andrew to have his daughter take a shower. Andrew explained that she had, but had dried in the ensuing wait. Elizabeth said, and I quote:
“Oh, but the Y has a ‘wet shower’ policy. And I know why. I asked about this and this is the reason…every time you jump into the pool, you displace some water, so if we have everyone jump in wet, then we don’t lose so much water!!!” Big smile. I think she’s kind of a ‘lifer’ at the midway. And that takes a special kind of person. Andrew took this all in stride and went off to give Jasmine her second shower. Eli looked at me with a glint in his eye, but said nothing. That night after we had read books and he was snuggling down to sleep we were sharing a little laugh over the ‘wet shower’ policy. I loved that at 7 he could see the ludicrousness of the policy that Elizabeth, at perhaps 37, was oblivious too. Really. She was. And then Eli said, “Mom, next Monday we need to bring one of those medicine dropper things.” I of course asked why… “Because I ALWAYS come home with water in my ears, right?” “Well, if we bring the dropper and fill up my ears in the bathroom BEFORE I jump in, the Y won’t lose so much water!” The dropper is packed in the swim bag, ready to go.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

My middle-aged 8 year old


Today I was walking down the alley with my two boys on the way home from school. It was lightly raining and Eli was thoughtfully spinning his umbrella as we walked along. He said, "Mom, I think I'd like a cup of chamomile tea when we get home. I'd like to relax before I start my math homework." So we get home and I get out the tea. He decides that he should actually just have plain old "Lipiton" because he does need to stay alert enough to do his work. I boil some water and serve it up at the kitchen table. I then am called away by Theo to get out the legos. When I return, there's Eli, legs crossed, tea in one hand, newspaper in the other. He says, "Mom, the only section really worth reading is the Source section." What a kid.