Ava’s aesthetic is so unique. Her favorite colors are black and white and she is incredibly adamant about it. What is interesting is that it is so far beyond any peer influence that might have been a factor in creating opinion. You can be sure that none of the girls in her class are thinking black and white…She refuses to budge too. It was a little touchy when she started coloring her valentine hearts all black, and I feared the inevitable reaction on the part of parents and teachers, but she managed to find inspiration in the white glitter glue, and so I dodged that one. And she assigns no particular weight to white and black—she loves them equally. But not grey. And no complicated patterns, no frou frou. And plaid is an absolute no-go.
She is equally opinionated regarding food too. Suddenly, and completely randomly, she announced that she does not like pizza anymore. She still loves vegetable sushi. And if I want her to eat in the morning, I had better not offer breakfast food. The most effective strategy is to offer her raw vegetables. This morning she asked for red pepper. And generally, if I set out a plate of very plain food, she will eat a good bit. She will often ask for chickpeas and some bread and some cheese and some carrots. But if I suggest a cheese sandwich, she refuses it. It all needs to be separate and plain. (Pasta is a notable exception). However, one very effective strategy is ‘noodle soup’ – I can get both of them to eat a ton of vegetables, just by chopping them up quite small and boiling them in broth with some whole grain noodles. Periodically I get inspired and make some chicken dish, or pork chops or whatever. And I keep it kid-friendly: no big spice, no onions/garlic, just sauce or cheese or whatever. And I have to practically beg them to eat it. When I do this, I think, ok, I am never doing this again—I made a huge mess, spent a ton of time cooking, and I am giving it to the dog. But I do repeat this approximately every 2 weeks, usually after reading a magazine loaded with recipes. And then, after I clear their plates, scrape them in the dog bowl, and set out new plates—a bowl of hummus for Carter to eat with a spoon, along with cucumbers and strawberries on the side, and a plate of chickpeas and salad and whole grain bread for Ava, I look at them and realize their preferences are actually healthier than the meal that I had spent hours cooking. Here’s to plain and simple.
And Carter has suddenly expressed an interest in art. Drawing and painting. He likes to make “big circles:”
“carter, what are you drawing?”
“oh, nothing, just big circles…”
“they are very nice” (ava: "weeelllll...they aren't really THAT great--they aren't really round...see carter, let me show you..." and then mom has to run interference before carter explodes in agony over ava's attempts to 'fix' his drawing) ... "carter, your circles are wonderul the way they are..."
“yes. VERY nice. VERY pretty.”
But he also will make little hatch marks, and refer to these as his numbers and letters. He has been obsessed with counting to 20 (he skips 10 every time), and I was wondering if he had any interest in the alphabet. Today I asked him if he could find the M on a magazine ad that had “MATTERS” in huge letters in the middle.
“Right Dere!” he announced and pointed to a little teeny tiny M in the background that I had not even noticed (the whole background was “what matters” written over and over in small, light grey text).
“and dere! And dere! And dere! M right dere too!” and he proceeded to find them all. So, somewhere along the way, he is learning his letters. Like talking, he is just keeping it a big secret.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
a good friend of mine has a very very very active son, and one of her strategies for dealing with his energy has been to give him paint cans to move around the yard. as in "hey! i have a great idea! why don't you take these 1-gallon cans of paint -- i think there are 8 -- and move them over here, to this spot about 100 feet away?"
i used to laugh in amazement at this--the ingenuity, as well as the phenomenon of a child that had so much energy that he found this fun and challenging.
now, well, i am not laughing. i am thinking that i might have to invest in some gallons of paint myself. every time i turn around, carter is relocating some heavy object. moreover, he chooses to carry these objects, even though some of them have wheels, and others would slide along the floor easily. as he does this, he talks to himself, narrating his effort.
i used to laugh in amazement at this--the ingenuity, as well as the phenomenon of a child that had so much energy that he found this fun and challenging.
now, well, i am not laughing. i am thinking that i might have to invest in some gallons of paint myself. every time i turn around, carter is relocating some heavy object. moreover, he chooses to carry these objects, even though some of them have wheels, and others would slide along the floor easily. as he does this, he talks to himself, narrating his effort.
Monday, February 11, 2008
today was the day we made our valentines. (actually, we started yesterday, but today was really the big push). 756 paper hearts later, we might have enough for each child in her class. it was very hard to get her to stop making hearts for Harvey and start making some for the less alluring folks in her class. however, once she was on a roll, she had an interesting and nice tidbit about everyone...so and so makes this funny fact, sometimes so and so hides under the craft table, so and so is really a calm person....and so on.
she was also in rare form, remarkably even-tempered and mature. i stayed at school today for the whole day, and i have this feeling that gesture made a huge difference. i would stay every day, but i don't think the teachers want carter there all the time. speaking of, he thought it was great.
hopefully we are on the downward slope of this recent bout of needing mommy--it would be nice to have her enjoying again the things that she used to adore. she still refuses to go to ballet, even though i am right there, on the other side of the wall. she says it is because her teacher does not teach her 'real' ballet (thank you angelina) and instead makes her run and jump around and pretend to be snakes and cats. this is ava in a nutshell. play? are you kidding? this is SERIOUS. life is serious. there are important things to do.
in the same vein, both kids have said more than once "don't laugh at me!" -- in response to a chuckle over something they have said or done that is cute or funny or clever. i, of course, stop my smiling or chuckling immediately, apologize and try to explain that i was smiling because i thought it was wonderful, but it is sort of thin ice.
ava may look cute or even funny, and carter may say something that is a riot, but to them, it is very very very serious. to ava, her crazy leaps are the most amazingly beautiful leaps in the world. i don't laugh at baryshnikov, do i? and carter's stories are not for our entertainment. they are important.
one look in their eyes, and you can see when it is important and serious, and if you laugh, you are running the risk of crushing them. and never hearing a story or seeing a dance again.
no pressure there!
she was also in rare form, remarkably even-tempered and mature. i stayed at school today for the whole day, and i have this feeling that gesture made a huge difference. i would stay every day, but i don't think the teachers want carter there all the time. speaking of, he thought it was great.
hopefully we are on the downward slope of this recent bout of needing mommy--it would be nice to have her enjoying again the things that she used to adore. she still refuses to go to ballet, even though i am right there, on the other side of the wall. she says it is because her teacher does not teach her 'real' ballet (thank you angelina) and instead makes her run and jump around and pretend to be snakes and cats. this is ava in a nutshell. play? are you kidding? this is SERIOUS. life is serious. there are important things to do.
in the same vein, both kids have said more than once "don't laugh at me!" -- in response to a chuckle over something they have said or done that is cute or funny or clever. i, of course, stop my smiling or chuckling immediately, apologize and try to explain that i was smiling because i thought it was wonderful, but it is sort of thin ice.
ava may look cute or even funny, and carter may say something that is a riot, but to them, it is very very very serious. to ava, her crazy leaps are the most amazingly beautiful leaps in the world. i don't laugh at baryshnikov, do i? and carter's stories are not for our entertainment. they are important.
one look in their eyes, and you can see when it is important and serious, and if you laugh, you are running the risk of crushing them. and never hearing a story or seeing a dance again.
no pressure there!
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
to file under "oh, for the love of god..."
whenever there is anything that needs 'fixing' -- whether that is a toy, or a snowman, or a piece of plumbing, or a fort -- or whenever there is anything to 'solve' -- pending doom from maurauding pirates or mice or monsters -- carter will always step in, push ava away, get right up to my face, point very seriously to himself, nod sagely, and say:
"man. me. man. me fix it. man. me get it."
ava always looks at me like "are you going to let him get away with that?"
whenever there is anything that needs 'fixing' -- whether that is a toy, or a snowman, or a piece of plumbing, or a fort -- or whenever there is anything to 'solve' -- pending doom from maurauding pirates or mice or monsters -- carter will always step in, push ava away, get right up to my face, point very seriously to himself, nod sagely, and say:
"man. me. man. me fix it. man. me get it."
ava always looks at me like "are you going to let him get away with that?"
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Monday, February 04, 2008
on sunday, we went to The Wild Center--The Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks for the bahzillionth time this winter. ava participated in the sunday art project (painting rocks, one for her (white) and one for carter (blue)), and carter ran around gleefully finding all his favorite animals, plants and minerals. at 2:30 the "otter enrichment program" began. this is fun because they usually feed the otters, and often it is fish. this is an amazing thing to see, because the fish are fast, but the otters are faster. amazingly fast. we had seen this 2 weeks ago, and when the otter-person-naturalist guy brought out the bucket, we were all excited.
whoosh! the bucket was dumped into the otter compound. zip! zap! zing! the otters had caught nearly all of the fish, sometimes handling 3 at a time (one in the mouth, one in each paw). they are very cat like in their pursuit and desire to "play" with their prey.
this all happened in about 20 seconds, and then sudenly (as the otters began to bite into their fish), carter began saying, quietly at first and then louder: "eat fish, no! eat fish, no!" i leaned over to hear what he was saying and when i got down on his level and asked him what he was saying, his eyes welled up and his chin started trembling, and he repeated it over and over--i whisked him up and ran off, getting him away just in time before he started sobbing. SOBBING. he was absolutely completely distraught that the otters were eating the trout. it took about 5 minutes before he would even look up from my shoulder, and even then he collapsed in a heap of empathy for his beloved trout. i felt like crap. of course, i had no idea, and he had seen them chase the trout 2 weeks prior, but still. and what was i to say? oh, they'll be alright? no. give him a lesson in the inevitable violence of the food chain? not a good choice either. so, all i could do was to hold him and tell him that it would be alright. rather vague, but i had no other answers.
so, no "wild kingdom" in our future for a while.
fortunately, he recovered, but now i wonder what he thinks of the otters. at least he did not hear the naturalist guy say that sometimes they eat baby beavers.
he and i skiied this morning (where we saw some ice-mobiles, and people riding their iceboards, and the ice guns were blowing snow--oops, i mean ice). we picked ava up at school went back to the mountain, had some cafeteria food, then he went to the nursery (joyfully) and ava and i skiied. we came back, got carter, then the 3 of us did 2 runs. back inside, off with the gear, stuff it into the bag, go get the car, load 'em up, and off we went. it all went very smoothly, though i have learned that a day of snowplowing behind little children will sear your thighs. it may not be the same as doing 6 runs from the top of the mountain, but it is a very very directed workout. ava asked if she could go into the half-pipe. i said 'absolutely not.' she begged and begged, and i finaly said, ava, that thing is about 4 stories high, solid ice, and steep. someday, yes. today, there is no way that i am letting you anywhere near it. then sh saw a kid drop in, and she said "there goes a little squirt mom!" and i said "that little squirt is about 14. he just looks like he's 4 because the pipe is so huge!"
she finally let it go, but not after begging to do the 10 foot jumps. aaaaah!!!!!!!!!
whoosh! the bucket was dumped into the otter compound. zip! zap! zing! the otters had caught nearly all of the fish, sometimes handling 3 at a time (one in the mouth, one in each paw). they are very cat like in their pursuit and desire to "play" with their prey.
this all happened in about 20 seconds, and then sudenly (as the otters began to bite into their fish), carter began saying, quietly at first and then louder: "eat fish, no! eat fish, no!" i leaned over to hear what he was saying and when i got down on his level and asked him what he was saying, his eyes welled up and his chin started trembling, and he repeated it over and over--i whisked him up and ran off, getting him away just in time before he started sobbing. SOBBING. he was absolutely completely distraught that the otters were eating the trout. it took about 5 minutes before he would even look up from my shoulder, and even then he collapsed in a heap of empathy for his beloved trout. i felt like crap. of course, i had no idea, and he had seen them chase the trout 2 weeks prior, but still. and what was i to say? oh, they'll be alright? no. give him a lesson in the inevitable violence of the food chain? not a good choice either. so, all i could do was to hold him and tell him that it would be alright. rather vague, but i had no other answers.
so, no "wild kingdom" in our future for a while.
fortunately, he recovered, but now i wonder what he thinks of the otters. at least he did not hear the naturalist guy say that sometimes they eat baby beavers.
he and i skiied this morning (where we saw some ice-mobiles, and people riding their iceboards, and the ice guns were blowing snow--oops, i mean ice). we picked ava up at school went back to the mountain, had some cafeteria food, then he went to the nursery (joyfully) and ava and i skiied. we came back, got carter, then the 3 of us did 2 runs. back inside, off with the gear, stuff it into the bag, go get the car, load 'em up, and off we went. it all went very smoothly, though i have learned that a day of snowplowing behind little children will sear your thighs. it may not be the same as doing 6 runs from the top of the mountain, but it is a very very directed workout. ava asked if she could go into the half-pipe. i said 'absolutely not.' she begged and begged, and i finaly said, ava, that thing is about 4 stories high, solid ice, and steep. someday, yes. today, there is no way that i am letting you anywhere near it. then sh saw a kid drop in, and she said "there goes a little squirt mom!" and i said "that little squirt is about 14. he just looks like he's 4 because the pipe is so huge!"
she finally let it go, but not after begging to do the 10 foot jumps. aaaaah!!!!!!!!!
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