<scene: Griffin, Maggie, and friend, Zoe, sitting at the little kid table having snack. I had just handed Zoe some tea>
Zoe: Thank you, Madame!
Griffin: Madame! Damn! Dammit!
Zoe: It’s DARNit.
Maggie: No, it’s dammit.
Siblings
This morning, per her Wednesday custom, Sarah went to an outdoor workout in the pre-sunrise Minnesota air. (Blizzard last night? Pshaw.) But this post isn’t about Sarah’s well-known bad-assery. Just setting the scene: I’m solo dad.
So at 6:30, I’m down in the kitchen, making my breakfast, steeling myself to shovel the walk and trudge through the very deep snow to school. Griffin comes down earlier than usual — fully dressed — excited for a snow day. (His school was cancelled. Mine was not.) He settles down at the art table to paint some volcanoes. Maggie comes padding into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, and croaks, “Where’s Mama?”
I remind her that Mama vanishes on Wednesday morning. She looks sad and cold, and may burst out crying at any moment. Griffin sees this and says, “Maggie, would you like to paint with me at the art table?” Maggie looks up, but shakes her head… not interested. Griffin’s shoulder’s slump, but then he takes a deep breath, and says, “Ok. Would you like me to read a book to you on the couch?” Maggie considers this for a moment, and slowly nods her head. Moments later, they are snuggled up on the couch reading a book together. And my heart is bursting.
Artificial Intelligence
During a conversation at dinner tonight, when Sarah determined that Sana’a was the capital of Yemen, Griffin asked,
“Did you think of that, or did your phone think of it?”
(It was the phone.)
Warrior Mom
Me: Ooooh! What are you today?
Maggie: A MOM!
(That’s right. I model awesome sword wielding mom behavior for my children!)
Review: The Political Classroom: Evidence and Ethics in Democratic Education
The Political Classroom: Evidence and Ethics in Democratic Education by Diana E. Hess
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is a refreshing and valuable addition to current educational research—a must-read for 6-12 social studies and history teachers. The authors tackle important questions that all competent social studies teachers consider regularly: How do you select issues to open up for student discussion? Are some issues too “hot” or too divisive to be fruitfully discussed by students? How should a teacher balance the need to maintain a safe space for all students with the educational goal of fostering authentic political conversations about relevant controversies? Should a teacher ever share their own beliefs, or is that tantamount to proselytizing?
To answer these questions, the authors conducted years of empirical research at a wide range of schools around the country. Along the way they describe three case studies in detail, each of which is a fascinating look at how different teachers and departments grapple with these issues. The case studies alone are worth the price of the book, but the real gems here are in the final chapters where the authors analyze the data and attempt to answer the questions posed above. These chapters stand as a perfect example of how to use relevant theory and research to guide classroom practice.
Make no mistake: this is not a book aimed at a popular audience. It is written primarily for education schools rather than regular classroom teachers. With that said, however, I found plenty here of immediate, practical value. (I primarily teach 8th grade social studies.) The research cited in the book focuses on grades 9-12, but the issues raised are certainly relevant in middle school and possibly even in the younger grades.
Little Free Libraries
Recently, I walked with the kids to some of our neighborhood Little Free Libraries. While walking, we started talking about whether we would someday put one in front of our house, even though there is one directly across the street from us.
I suggested that I might make one that was all for science fiction stories, and I would decorate it with space ships and alien planets. Griffin and Maggie loved this idea, and quickly came up with their own versions.
Griffin’s would be all about science and would have pictures of microscopes and tiny (microscopic?) creatures on it. He asked a few questions about the difference between science and science fiction, but once he understood the distinction, he was firmly committed to real science.
Maggie, of course, shouted, “FROZEN!” When I asked her how it should be decorated, she looked at me like I was hopelessly ignorant, and said, “ELSA!” followed by a whooshing sound which I took to be the sound of Elsa’s ice magic.
Badass Wife
Sarah went went to her dawn workout outdoors this morning, despite our latest wave of arctic air. The weatherbug reading below was shortly after her workout, as the air started warming up.
Naturally, afterwards, I got a text saying, “You should go skiing! It’s beautiful out!”
Mightless
<struggling to help Maggie get her long underwear and pants on at the same time over her already sock-ed feet>
Me: Push with all your might, Maggie!
Maggie: I don’t have any might left!
#wintertruths
Skiing
I finally have a pair of cross-country skis. One step closer to being a real Minnesotan. (Ice fishing next year?) We went out as a family on Tuesday, after our first real snow, and then I went again on Thursday morning on my own. It’s a short, easy trail at Highland golf course, but I’m an unsteady amateur, so it’s exactly what I need.
Beginners at work.
Skiers in action.
Maggie actually has some skis from a garage sale, but can’t make it on a real trail yet.
Arrived shortly after sunrise.
Like that spray tan? (Actually, just wind and exertion on a very cold morning.)
This day…
Maggie is a verbal kid, talking pretty much all the time. She’s generally an effective communicator, conveying her points successfully, even if she doesn’t ultimately get what she wants. (So many foiled plans, resulting in extravagant drama.)
One quirk of language with her recently is that she has trouble with words relating to the past and future, especially today, yesterday, and tomorrow. She knows what they mean, and can use them in sentences, but she seems bothered by their fluidity: tomorrow becomes today becomes yesterday. To get around this, she’s taken to a using the phrase “this day” to indicate today. Then she adds events with before or after until she clarifies what she means.
Here’s an example that we just heard in the car—she’s excited about her grandparents’ visit tomorrow:
“Mama, this day, after we sleep and wake up, is it grandma and grandpa day?”
No reason to share this other than that Sarah and I think it is unbearably cute, and we know it will fade away in time and we’ll never quite remember how she worded it.
Update: I’ve since been listening to Maggie using this construction and noticed that she also has an alternative to the word yesterday: “last day.” She might say, for example, “Daddy, last day, did you go to school?”