“Daddy, how is mama going to use this to make soap?”
“That’s a good question, Griffin. I have no idea. Your mama is better at lots of things than I am, and making soap is one of those things.”
“Are you better at some things?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Are you better at craft projects?”
“No.”
“Are you better at soccer?”
“No, mama’s better at all sports.”
“Are you better at singing?”
“No… Â It’s bedtime! Get moving buster.”
Phew.
Yep, Maggie fell asleep in the swing right after a snow storm. She’s definitely from Minnesota!
Griffin, Maggie, and I stopped at Uncle Sven’s Comic Shoppe yesterday to buy some new comics for Griffin and the second volume of Brian K. Vaughan’s Saga for me. (It’s so, so good.)
When we arrived, Griffin changed course and homed in on the candy rack, grabbing a yellow bag of Skittles. He maintained that he had no interest in comics anymore and just wanted candy. He used his best little baby voice (so annoying!) and squeaked, “Please… candy… skittles…”
I was firm, “No, Griffin, that’s not why we are here; we’re heading home to have dinner in a minute; sugar is evil; you’re an addict; etc.” Commence whining, so I ignored him. (I pretty sure this is all in that parenting book.) I noticed, however, that Comic Shop Dude (CSD) kept a suspicious eye on Griff.
Griffin held onto the Skittles, but began showing more interest in comics. (Ignoring totally works.) After some serious conversations with CSD about various titles, Griff settled on the latest issue of the regular Scooby Doo and a Scooby Doo Team-Up. I don’t know much about comics, but I think the “Team-Up” line is DC’s way of transitioning kids to real superheroes like Batman. Inevitably, Saga was out of stock, because everybody else knows how good it is. (Why didn’t he write it just for me??? I found it at Barnes and Noble later; don’t tell CSD.)
Time to check out. I’ve got the comics and am pulling out my wallet. CSD, still eyeing Griffin, shakes his head grimly, tsks like my grandmother, and asks Griffin to please remove the Skittles from under his coat. Yes, my four-year-old just got caught trying to shoplift some Skittles. Awesome.
Actually, CSD was pretty great, giving Griffin a very stern but developmentally appropriate talk about how important it is not to steal stuff. Griffin was clearly embarrassed and meekly put the Skittles back in the rack. For good measure I added something about heavily armed police and a lifetime behind bars. (That  parenting book said something about ninja parents wielding fear and exaggeration.)
Lesson learned? Or Lex Luthor reborn? Stay tuned.
PS: I would have finished Saga, Volume 2, last night except I forced myself to put it away so I could have more tonight.
We had a mega-snowstorm here on Thursday, dumping a good 8-10 inches on our neighborhood in Saint Paul (better than the 18″ recorded just 100 miles north in Superior, WI!). In any normal year this would have produced a snow day, but after missing 4.5 days of school already, we stayed open. Many teachers and students faced multi-hour commutes. For me, it was just a matter of strapping on the snow shoes and trudging my usual mile. It was fun, and I tried not to be smug about the five stuck cars I passed on the way. Below are two phone pics I shot on the way. Alas, I couldn’t figure out a way to compose a selfie that included my snow shoes. (I need longer arms… or a fish-eye lens.)
In the interest of science, I present the following two exhibits.
February 15, 2014 photo of Maggie’s place setting after her breakfast. Rather than looking at the cute heart plate, observe the clean black tablecloth around the edge. Maggie is 21 months old.
February 15, 2014 photo of Griffin’s place setting after his breakfast. Note the tablecloth. Griffin is 4 years, 10 months old.
Competing explanations:
At about 4:00 AM this morning Sarah and I awoke to the songs of a passing pod of whales. Truly, it sounded like distorted whalesongs, or  a family of giants groaning in their sleep, or some 100-foot tall shutters creaking in the wind. We lay there, bemused, wondering what it could be. We didn’t have any good guesses. Our most realistic hypotheses didn’t make much sense: the crane at Macalester creaking in the cold? Distant wolves howling in the suburbs? Turns out, we weren’t the only people awakened by it. Local news sites ran headlines like these:
Strange howling sound awakens St. Paul
Whales? Organ music? St. Paul residents try to place eerie early-morning noise
MYSTERY HOWL: What caused haunting St. Paul sounds?
On February 7, 2014, the 8th grade at my school completed their first two week “Winterupt†experience. We pushed hard for the opportunity to do this—basically taking two weeks off from regular classes to do school differently (and better!). It has been a ton of work over the last year, but thanks to my incredible colleagues, we pulled it off successfully. (Despite school closures throwing all our plans into disarray.)
During the first week students were immersed in their foreign language. (I don’t have any media here to illustrate that week yet because while they were doing that, I was with the design thinking team madly working out our plans for the second week. I’m hoping to dig something up from the language team.) During the second week, students engaged in a design thinking challenge where they re-imagined the playground space outside the middle school. The short movie below was thrown together by a colleague from some photos during the first few days of the project. The slide show includes a picture of each model (built from start to finish in two days!) along with the team’s mission statement.
It’s been a very busy month around here so the blog has been neglected. Here are some of the highlights:
Griffin and I spent some time bonding today. Walked to the barbershop, the comic store, and then stopped by a local pub for lunch and some pinball.
At the pub we visited the men’s room. The urinal was full of ice. (Why? I don’t know. Maybe they dump their ice there since it will never melt if they dump it outside.) Before I have even registered the scene, Griffin says, “Ooh, ice!!!” and plunges his hands in. Yes, into the covered-with-pee ice in the bathroom at the bar.
At which point I screamed incoherently.
