Griffin is in fourth grade. Maggie is starting first. At a Montessori school, this means that they’re both in new classrooms with new teachers and a new mix of students. They couldn’t be more excited to go.
Unprompted, Griffin announced in the car tonight that he wants to grow up to be either a musician or an illustrator. (I’ll include a post soon with some of the pictures he’s drawn in his new notebook; he’s very excited about it.)
Maggie proceeded to announce that she wants to be one of three things: a dolphin trainer, a singer, or a dancer.
(For comparison, see what Griffin said in 2013 and both of them in 2016.)
Earlier this week, Griffin and Maggie created a four-level dungeon on my dry erase hex tiles. They were so excited about it that they wanted me to play in it, so Griffin volunteered to be the game master. It was his first time running a game and his first original adventure. When I asked what it was called, he replied, “The Dungeon of Doom.”
It was remarkably fun playing this game with the kids. Griffin was creative and clever, and I found myself not just playing with my children, but getting into the game. See below for a few pictures of the wild map. Beneath the pictures are some highlights from the session, written mostly for other tabletop gamers.
Dinner conversation tonight:
Griffin: “In a way, we do have superpowers.”
Sarah: “How so?”
Griffin: “We can communicate. And we can love. And we have emotions.”
Sarah: “That’s very wise.”
Griffin: <…thinking…> “But, if everyone has a superpower, then I guess it’s not really super after all.”
“I am definitely going to go to college. When you finish your classes, you can just walk around, ride your bike, hang out with your friends. . . it’s like recess all the time!” — Griffin
Big transitions are afoot. Today is the last day of school for Griffin and Maggie at Cornerstone, and it is Andrew’s last work day at SPA. Not only are we all transitioning into summer mode, but Griffin and Maggie will be moving into new classrooms with new teachers next year. While this sounds entirely normal to those of us who attended regular schools, in the Montessori model, students work with the same teacher for three years.
Griffin has been in the same classroom since first grade, beginning as a neophyte being mentored by older students and ending, this year, as one of the third-grade leaders. Although Maggie first enrolled this year as a kindergartner, she was part of the top cohort in her classroom, working with younger pre-k students. In the fall, both of them, as fourth- and first-graders, will be entering a new world where they will grow for the next three years.
Maggie has been very excited about the transition, eagerly looking forward to her “Fly Up!” ceremony and the dance her class has been practicing. Griffin has more mixed feelings, leading to some conversations about the term “bittersweet.” He’s excited to continue learning and doing new work (in Montessori parlance), but he loved his teacher and will miss his many younger friends that he’s leaving behind.
In Griffin’s classroom, crazy hair day coincided with their celebration of the Indian festival of Holi, “The Festival of Colors,” which involved running through clouds of colored powders. The last picture, above, shows Griffin after the festival.
During dinner last night, we were discussing how messy babies are when they eat. In my customarily ridiculous fashion, I proposed that high chairs should be built inside large tubs. All the food detritus would fall into the tub. Then at the end of the meal, you pull a lever and a huge bucket of water dumps on baby, high chair, and tub, washing all the sticky, gooey, crumblies away. We laughed about this, agreeing that one of many problems with my proposal, was that the sudden deluge would be scary for the hapless filth monger in the midst of it.
I tried proposing heated dryers, but Griffin didn’t think that this would be enough. He suggested putting an umbrella over the baby. But this, I countered, would only clean the area around the high chair, without cleaning the baby himself (we were imagining Oliver as our first beneficiary). Griffin considered this, and responded, “What if we put some sort of water resistor over him?” I shook my head, misunderstanding, and pointed out that we need the baby to get wet. Griffin, in turn, shook his head, saying, “No, a water resistor.” I still didn’t get it, thinking he meant some sort of anti-water-force-field. He elaborated, “You know — an electrical resister doesn’t stop the electricity, it just kind of slows it down. So a water resistor would be like that, making it less strong.”
My jaw dropped. My nine-year-old just schooled me on electrical engineering, using the idea of a electrical resistance as a metaphor.
Patent pending.
Griffin and Maggie fondly recalled their joint birthday party in 2016 and decided to merge their parties again this year. Because we all love having parties outside, the endless winter of 2018 stymied our attempts to schedule it between their birthdays. We settled on the final weekend of the month, but even then our first two choices of parks weren’t open yet. We eventually settled on the Como playground near the Como Town mini-amusement park.
After all the weather hassles, the day was gorgeous. Breezy and warm in the sun and cool in the shade—perfect weather for a few hours rampaging around a playground. Sarah made two batches of cupcakes: Griffin had red velvet with cream cheese frosting; Maggie had vanilla with blue frosting. Griffin and Maggie (and Oliver, too) were exhausted and happy at the end of the festivities.
We weren’t trying to photograph the event, but I captured a few shots on my phone:
And two short videos of the celebratory songs:
Tonight I asked Griffin if he’s been keeping track of his screen-time minutes (a thing we do).
He replied, “I thought you said that we’d do it by sound.”
“By … sound?”
“Yes, last night you said that we would do it by sound,” he repeated, looking entirely earnest.
<Puzzled thought.> “Ohhhh… I said we would play it by ear!”
Love the way brains grapple with new idioms.
