Posts Tagged ‘Kids’

I Know What She Was Going For, But Still . . .

January 16, 2018

Today in my son’s virtual school:

Teacher:  “What’s the same about these two eggs?”

Class:  “The shape!”

Teacher:  “What’s different about these two eggs?”

Class:  “The color!”

Me (thinking):  Since this is a Martin Luther King Day lesson, I see where she’s going with this.  The important thing is that they’re both eggs.

Teacher:  “But even though they’re different colors, they’re both the same on the inside.”  *cracks open the eggs and pours their insides into a bowl*  “See?”

Me (thinking):  That escalated quickly!

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Can’t Say I Care For The Taste, But Such Is Life Sometimes

January 10, 2018

On Monday I said that I expected the lesson that time fussing about a problem gives no credit would be revisited again, and it turns out I was right.  Oh, my son is doing pretty good today, but after a night of no sleep for me, today I find myself doing my best to put my lesson where my mouth is.

Because Sometimes It’s Five Minutes Till Bedtime

January 9, 2018

A couple of months back my son developed an interest in chess, and since then he and I have played many, many games of chess.  Never having been an avid chess player myself, it’s been a learning experience for me as well.

One of the most surprising things I’ve learned is that sometimes it’s trickier to lose a game than it is to win one.

I Expect This Lesson Will Be Revisited . . . Again

January 8, 2018

Today begins the second half of my son’s school year.  Today’s lesson:  Time spent figuring a problem out gives full credit, time spent fussing about the problem gives none.

I Learned Something About Overthinking Questions That Day

December 12, 2017

On a lighter note, on a field trip a while back my son’s teacher pointed to an unlabeled display and asked him what it was.

He looked at her like she was being completely unreasonable and said, “I don’t know!” with such vehemence that I realized what he thought she was asking.

“She’s not asking you the species, son,” I chuckled.  “She’s asking you what do you call those kind of bones.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed.  “Fossils!”

The Trip (Part Five)

December 8, 2017

Regardless, my absolute favorite moment of the trip was the following exchange I had with my son:

L:  I want to go! When is mom going to be done talking with those people?

Me:  How long have you known your mother now?

L:  (slightly perplexed)  Seven years?

Me:  And when have you ever seen your mom cut a conversation short?

L:  (without missing a beat)  April 27th, 2011.

Me:  I am so writing this down!

Explaining The Tone

November 6, 2017

I’m presuming that people noticed that around Thursday of last week my entries here started to take on a certain . . . tone in the sense that At the Mountains of Madness has a “tone.”

Remember when I said the plan was to go back to Disney sometime?  Well . . . it happened . . .

You Know What, Son? You’re Right

October 31, 2017

I feel like all these songs are only saying ‘Just do it!’, and that’s not always helpful.

– My son after hearing yet another “Don’t give up!” song in class today

I Walked Into That One So Hard My Nose STILL Hurts

October 27, 2017

And to wrap up the week, a quick joke from my son:

We were going over some of his classwork earlier this week, and I made the mistake of telling him that something was the “same principle” as something else.

“Of course it’s the same principle!” he said with a grin.  “Every school only has one principal, you know.”

“Yes, I Mean It.” (Part Three)

October 26, 2017

Amazingly enough, that was the turning point of the whole trip, so in the final hours of our last day, we braved the heat and the crowd to see a Stormtrooper procession, stood in two more long lines to meet other Star Wars characters, and there was no significant complaining from my son.  (He’s still six, after all, but he complained less than I would have been if I was verbalizing my internal monologue, so I definitely call that a win.)

More importantly, he had fun!  I didn’t . . . but there’s always next time.

“Next time?” I hear some of you asking.  “You mean you’ll actually be going back?”

That’s the plan.