Language can be a tough thing to sort out when you're only two years old. Especially if you're working on two languages instead of one.
A case in point is this sentence that I hear multiple times a day: Me need a ploblem! I usually have lots of problems I'd be happy to give him, but I haven't figured out how to transfer them.
A second is confusion over the words scared and scary. Me really scary, he'll say when I pull out the vacuum.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Reading catch-up
I've been busy wrapping up my winter reading list.
How the Irish Saved Civilization started slowly. Very slowly. And the beginning had almost nothing to do with Ireland. I got the impression that the author didn't have quite enough material for a book and so was padding it with information that only tangentially applied to his thesis. But once he got to the Irish part, it was interesting. A lot of it was information I had read before but hadn't made its way into my long-term memory. For example, illuminated manuscripts really did come from Ireland. The illuminated manuscripts from continental monasteries are from monasteries founded by Irish monks. The monks sometimes wrote asides as they were transcribing the material, commenting on the material or how they felt at the moment. When Christian missionaries from Rome arrived in England, the church they established differed in some ways from the Christianity spread by Irish missionaries in Scotland and northern England. Things eventually came to a head and the Roman church won.
I really enjoyed The Last Week. It definitely gave me a deeper understanding of Holy Week. Like all of Marcus Borg's books, it reminded me that Jesus's message was centered on justice for people in this life and that if I want to follow him, I should be working to bring the kingdom of heaven here to earth.
Beginning Twelfth Night was a bit of a shock. It's been a very long time since I've read Shakespeare, and now that the King James Version is my secondary Bible translation, my Elizabethan English is more rusty than ever. Once I got back into the rhythm of the language, the play was a quick and enjoyable read, although not a good choice when I was tired. Of course, the plot is preposterous. A woman pretending to be a man. Boy/girl twins that look so much like they are mistaken for each other. And characters who switch from being passionately in love with one person to being passionately in love with another in the space of one very short scene. But hey, I watched Alias, so clearly preposterous plots don't phase me.
I picked up 21: Bringing Down the House because I work with some former MIT blackjack players and I was curious about the blackjack experience. The book is a quick and interesting read, and I look forward to seeing the movie this spring.
How the Irish Saved Civilization started slowly. Very slowly. And the beginning had almost nothing to do with Ireland. I got the impression that the author didn't have quite enough material for a book and so was padding it with information that only tangentially applied to his thesis. But once he got to the Irish part, it was interesting. A lot of it was information I had read before but hadn't made its way into my long-term memory. For example, illuminated manuscripts really did come from Ireland. The illuminated manuscripts from continental monasteries are from monasteries founded by Irish monks. The monks sometimes wrote asides as they were transcribing the material, commenting on the material or how they felt at the moment. When Christian missionaries from Rome arrived in England, the church they established differed in some ways from the Christianity spread by Irish missionaries in Scotland and northern England. Things eventually came to a head and the Roman church won.
I really enjoyed The Last Week. It definitely gave me a deeper understanding of Holy Week. Like all of Marcus Borg's books, it reminded me that Jesus's message was centered on justice for people in this life and that if I want to follow him, I should be working to bring the kingdom of heaven here to earth.
Beginning Twelfth Night was a bit of a shock. It's been a very long time since I've read Shakespeare, and now that the King James Version is my secondary Bible translation, my Elizabethan English is more rusty than ever. Once I got back into the rhythm of the language, the play was a quick and enjoyable read, although not a good choice when I was tired. Of course, the plot is preposterous. A woman pretending to be a man. Boy/girl twins that look so much like they are mistaken for each other. And characters who switch from being passionately in love with one person to being passionately in love with another in the space of one very short scene. But hey, I watched Alias, so clearly preposterous plots don't phase me.
I picked up 21: Bringing Down the House because I work with some former MIT blackjack players and I was curious about the blackjack experience. The book is a quick and interesting read, and I look forward to seeing the movie this spring.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Blankie!
Yesterday LW decided he couldn't sleep without his blue teddy bear blanket. He's had it since birth (Michael's mom made it for him), but up until yesterday it was no more important than any of his other blankets.
And then came bedtime.
I really wish kids would warn you about drastic changes like this. Mom, please pay careful attention to where I casually toss my teddy bear blanket this morning, because at 8:00 tonight, it will become the most important thing in the world.
But they never do. At least, my kids don't. They must like the sight of me scurrying around frantically. Luckily, it only took about five minutes for me to find it over by the lamp in the corner of his room.
I wonder what will be important tomorrow?
And then came bedtime.
I really wish kids would warn you about drastic changes like this. Mom, please pay careful attention to where I casually toss my teddy bear blanket this morning, because at 8:00 tonight, it will become the most important thing in the world.
But they never do. At least, my kids don't. They must like the sight of me scurrying around frantically. Luckily, it only took about five minutes for me to find it over by the lamp in the corner of his room.
I wonder what will be important tomorrow?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Another big kid
We moved LW to the bottom bunk yesterday. He's a tall boy, and he's outgrown his travel-size crib. We figured it was time to give him a little more room.
He was very eager to help me assemble and install the railing on the bottom bunk and went to bed cheerfully enough.
We braced ourselves. Would he quickly grow bored and climb out? Would he go wandering in the middle of the night? Would he take after EM and refuse to get out of bed in the morning until we came to get him?
None of those, as it turned out. He went to sleep, slept through the night, and got himself out of bed in the morning.
He came downstairs and excitedly told Michael, "Me sleep in me big bed. Me get meself up all by meself. Me a big kid."
And later, looking at the cinnamon rolls in the oven, "What us big kids eating?"
Of course, I'm not convinced were out of the woods yet. Let's see how nap goes today and bedtime goes tonight.
He was very eager to help me assemble and install the railing on the bottom bunk and went to bed cheerfully enough.
We braced ourselves. Would he quickly grow bored and climb out? Would he go wandering in the middle of the night? Would he take after EM and refuse to get out of bed in the morning until we came to get him?
None of those, as it turned out. He went to sleep, slept through the night, and got himself out of bed in the morning.
He came downstairs and excitedly told Michael, "Me sleep in me big bed. Me get meself up all by meself. Me a big kid."
And later, looking at the cinnamon rolls in the oven, "What us big kids eating?"
Of course, I'm not convinced were out of the woods yet. Let's see how nap goes today and bedtime goes tonight.
Mink!
Yesterday the kids and I were waiting for the bus when we saw a mink running along the opposite creek bed, headed back toward the inn. It was fast!
Of course, NB is convinced it was a weasel and not a mink, and my appeals to the New England Field Guide have not won him over. In part this is because it was too far away to determine, for example, if its chin was white.
Michael saw it running in our woods this morning, so hopefully I will see it again.
Of course, NB is convinced it was a weasel and not a mink, and my appeals to the New England Field Guide have not won him over. In part this is because it was too far away to determine, for example, if its chin was white.
Michael saw it running in our woods this morning, so hopefully I will see it again.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Snow days and roads
School was canceled today. Again. At this rate, the kids will be in school until the Fourth of July. And this is an especially wasted day off because it was supposed to be their first day back after their long vacation.
The roads didn't seem that bad to me, but the paved roads near us are often a far cry from the dirt roads on the mountains. I got to see that for myself when I dropped EM off at his math class tonight. It's on a dirt driveway off a small dirt road off a big dirt road off an even bigger dirt road.
I don't entirely understand the attitude towards roads here. There is quite a large Don't Pave the Roads contingent. Did you know there is such a thing as a historic road?
And then there is the issue of private roads versus town roads. At a recent town meeting, a woman asked the town council when her road would switch from a private road to a town road. "It now has seven year-round residents," she said, "and we're spending a lot of money to maintain the road."
The spokesman for the council tried to be gentle. In fact, I think he was a little too gentle, because he had to repeat it several times before she seemed to understand. Basically, private roads aren't built to the same standards as public roads. In order for the town to take over a road, it has to be brought up to town road standards, at the expense of the people who live on the road. And even then, the town is under no obligation to accept the road as a public road. The town has never agreed to take over a previously private road in living memory. And given that almost every road in town is a private road, it's not a good precedent to set.
The head of the town road crew was more blunt: "It will never happen. If the town took over all the private roads, the maintenance would bankrupt the town."
There now. Don't you appreciate your pavement a little more?
The roads didn't seem that bad to me, but the paved roads near us are often a far cry from the dirt roads on the mountains. I got to see that for myself when I dropped EM off at his math class tonight. It's on a dirt driveway off a small dirt road off a big dirt road off an even bigger dirt road.
I don't entirely understand the attitude towards roads here. There is quite a large Don't Pave the Roads contingent. Did you know there is such a thing as a historic road?
And then there is the issue of private roads versus town roads. At a recent town meeting, a woman asked the town council when her road would switch from a private road to a town road. "It now has seven year-round residents," she said, "and we're spending a lot of money to maintain the road."
The spokesman for the council tried to be gentle. In fact, I think he was a little too gentle, because he had to repeat it several times before she seemed to understand. Basically, private roads aren't built to the same standards as public roads. In order for the town to take over a road, it has to be brought up to town road standards, at the expense of the people who live on the road. And even then, the town is under no obligation to accept the road as a public road. The town has never agreed to take over a previously private road in living memory. And given that almost every road in town is a private road, it's not a good precedent to set.
The head of the town road crew was more blunt: "It will never happen. If the town took over all the private roads, the maintenance would bankrupt the town."
There now. Don't you appreciate your pavement a little more?
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Spring in 20 Days? Hah!
It's snowing. It's supposed to snow tonight, tomorrow, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. And they are talking about a "monster" storm for next weekend. Can I cry now?
Usually by this time of year, I am counting down the days until ski season is over because I am ready for a break from lots of inn guests. This year? I'm just sick of snow.
Yes, yes. I know. I live in Northern New England. Skiers pay the bulk of our bills for the year. When it doesn't snow in the winter, we start obsessing about money, which is not fun. Snow is good. I know this.
And yet . . . I am so ready for spring.
The calendar says spring is coming in 20 days. The stores clearly think spring is coming. Hopefully the kids won't outgrow or wear out anything else between now and June, because the clothes currently for sale in the stores won't be appropriate for our weather until then.
And Easter. Easter is three weeks from tomorrow. The earliest Easter since 1913. I like my holidays, and I like them to match up with the appropriate season. (Good thing I'm not Australian.) It's so much easier to speak of Jesus being the light in our darkness when you are at the darkest time of the year. Similarly, the celebration of Jesus as the promise of new life belongs in the spring, when trees are budding and bulbs are flowering. The traditional Easter greeting and response, "Christ is risen!" "He is risen indeed!" is a little harder to feel when everything around you is still frozen in the dead clutches of winter.
Sigh. I think I'm going to go buy myself some tulips.
Usually by this time of year, I am counting down the days until ski season is over because I am ready for a break from lots of inn guests. This year? I'm just sick of snow.
Yes, yes. I know. I live in Northern New England. Skiers pay the bulk of our bills for the year. When it doesn't snow in the winter, we start obsessing about money, which is not fun. Snow is good. I know this.
And yet . . . I am so ready for spring.
The calendar says spring is coming in 20 days. The stores clearly think spring is coming. Hopefully the kids won't outgrow or wear out anything else between now and June, because the clothes currently for sale in the stores won't be appropriate for our weather until then.
And Easter. Easter is three weeks from tomorrow. The earliest Easter since 1913. I like my holidays, and I like them to match up with the appropriate season. (Good thing I'm not Australian.) It's so much easier to speak of Jesus being the light in our darkness when you are at the darkest time of the year. Similarly, the celebration of Jesus as the promise of new life belongs in the spring, when trees are budding and bulbs are flowering. The traditional Easter greeting and response, "Christ is risen!" "He is risen indeed!" is a little harder to feel when everything around you is still frozen in the dead clutches of winter.
Sigh. I think I'm going to go buy myself some tulips.
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