Category: Summer
Monday, Jul 5, 2010 | Holidays, School, Summer |
This summer, I’ve heavily loaded the front end of our summer holiday. Whether this proves to be a good idea or not has yet to be established, but at the very least, it will prevent the early lethargy and cries of boredom that marked the early days of last summer’s holiday.
Albus spent his first few days of holiday at home with us, and he was a changed person. He organized a self-monitoring system (“we all have to be honest”) to keep track of good and bad behavior. With AppleApple, he set up a stage in the living-room and organized a play that they plan to work on over the summer. He was, in short, a suddenly happy, thoughtful big brother, not the surly child we’ve seen so frequently in these latter days of the third grade. I think he must have been suffering more than we’d recognized, at school this year. He and I spent some time together, just the two of us, on Friday, and I asked him what he did not like about school, and he said that he didn’t like sitting still. Sitting still and doing work, because the work was boring–sometimes it was boring because he already knew how to do it, and sometimes it was boring because he didn’t know how to do it. Bit of a catch-22 there.
What most amazed me and Kevin was that these projects that Albus was organizing involved sitting down and writing. We could barely get him to write two sentences for his homework all year, and there it was: evidence of spontaneously occurring, self-motivated, parentally-painless application of literacy skills.
(We see this from AppleApple all the time; in fact, one of our projects last week–hers and mine–was to put together her newspaper, which is now completed! We just need to make copies, and possibly figure out how to post it online and link to it from the blog, to save paper and postage. More info on this soon. If you want a paper copy, send me a message).
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So, was it wise to send Albus off to overnight camp so soon after he was released from the bonds of school? The photos I took of AppleApple at camp yesterday show her busily arranging her bunk with all of her belongings (and she took her journal, so I expect new stories for the next edition of “Family Times” to be forthcoming). The photos of Albus, however, show him attempting to smile, then not even trying. His features and posture are transparent. He looks much younger in photographs. I could hardly stand to look at the photos last night, he looks so lonely and uncertain in them. I hope this was temporary. They were going to go swimming straight away.
I wonder–maybe he’s a homebody?
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I will see them both tomorrow, because I’ll be picking up AppleApple, who is only staying for two nights. She has a soccer tournament all this week and weekend. Albus has the choice of staying on till Saturday, and I really wonder, now, what he’ll choose.
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My two little ones: it’s just like a regular school day, on the days when Fooey is at home. Playing at the counter, colouring, writing. We have hired a neighbour girl to tutor Fooey and Albus this summer. Fooey is very close to reading, and eager to work hard on it–and I don’t have the time to feed her need as much as she’d like. She just spent a full hour sounding out words with our sweet, patient neighbour.
Albus was less keen to hear about the tutoring plan, but surprisingly accepting–we want him to keep working on his writing and reading this summer (which he may just do all on his own–who knew??); they’ll run multiplication tables together, he will read out loud, and work on writing an ongoing adventure story. After seeing Fooey’s appetite for learning this morning, I’m wondering whether half an hour, three times a week, will be enough for her.
Monday, Jun 21, 2010 | Backyard, Kevin, Photos, Summer |
Monday, Aug 31, 2009 | Holidays, Music, Summer |
To celebrate their recent wedding, my brother and brand-new sister-in-law hosted a party at their farm, complete with festively blue-and-white striped tent (yuh-huh, it rained off and on, and somehow that just added to the experience), pig roast, bonfire, sparklers, marshmallows, kegs, music, mud, and a device that shot potatoes into the netherworld. Let’s just say it was exactly the wild time that was called for, fun for all ages, complete with a few necessary sparks of danger. Just add fire. A moment that returns to me now: lying in our tent, trying to get CJ back to sleep, listening to the younger/child-less crowd scream out the lyrics to “Sabotage.” Apparently (I can actually picture this) my middle brother somehow managed to get his feet well above his head in a display of dancing virtuosity. How late was this? I have no idea. As soon as we arrived, I lost all track of time, and that was sweet, too. A day and night out of time.
And this week Kevin’s on holiday, and we are getting organized, hanging out, moving at our own pace for a few more blissful days before we return to routine. Let the good times roll.
Wednesday, Aug 26, 2009 | Mothering, Summer, Writing |
Here’s an article I stumbled across online that offers a tiny window into the wastelands of CanLit obscurity. It rang rather horribly true. I’ve spent this summer deliberately not writing. Not writing poetry, not writing stories, not writing anything except the occasional blurb-like blog entry. Instead, I’ve been going, doing, cooking, eating, drinking, biking, talking, dozing, rising, reading. At first, I thought I’d go crazy without an outlet for my imagination; oddly, it’s been the opposite, which is frightening me ever so slightly as I prepare to return to a more regular writing life, afforded by children returning to school, and regular babysitting hours funded by dwindling grant monies.
My heart is querying: why? And I’m querying: heart, can you bear to return to that sheaf of rejected poems? Can you bear to begin again another new project? Can you bear to travel to those dark and lonely places?
It’s occurred to me that were I to remove the ambition of being a writer from my psyche, mine would be a full and fulfilling life. With that hole of doubt and hope plastered over, life looks simple–not simplistic. A clean wall on which to hang new photographs, less mirrors.
This post isn’t a question. It’s the hum of an observation.
But here’s a question: what if the gifts I’ve interpreted as belonging to “writer,” actually belong to some other vocation?
I know I’m good at: expressing emotions, witnessing moments, sitting quietly, focussing deeply, finding humour, sharing beauty in imagery and language, listening, reflection, taking responsibility, organizing, planning, assessing situations and staying flexible.
I know sometimes I’m: too introspective, overly analytical, reticent, impatient. Sometimes my expectations (for myself and for others) are way too high. I eat cheese almost every night before bed. My favourite dream hasn’t change since childhood, and it involves riding a wild horse.
Enough with the sequitors and non-. I will leave this post as … to be continued. Ain’t life interesting?
Thursday, Aug 20, 2009 | Local Food, Summer |
Trying to get up in school-ready time, which is silly because we still have two and a half weeks of summer vacation left; but I want to remind myself that I can do it. And I can. It just makes me want to go to bed earlier. Unfortunately, the children are not going to bed earlier. If anything, they seem incapable of falling asleep before 9:30 at night, no matter when we tuck them in (perhaps we should end the two-week-long sleepover going on in Albus’s room; Apple-Apple is in his loft bed, because she kicks, and Fooey and Albus have been sharing a mattress on the floor, which leaves only enough floorspace for masses of dumped Lego. My thorough cleaning of several weekends ago was decimated almost instantly). Naturally, no matter how active our days, the children still wake up at approximately the same time. This morning it wasn’t their fault. We were all woken by an apparent earthquake, the entire house shuddering on its foundations. It’s still going on. Endless road construction.
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Tomato season seems to be starting only just now; at any rate, my favourite savoury fruit hasn’t been offered in bulk yet at either of our local food sources. Tomatoes loom, and part of me is questioning whether I’ll find the energy and time to do the work when the bushels start rolling in. (I think I can, I think I can). It feels like I haven’t been putting up food at the same pace as last summer, or perhaps not with the same fresh enthusiasm. Because we’ve already filled one freezer, so obviously we are putting food up: mainly blueberries, apricots, peas, and yesterday evening Kevin grated a ton of zucchini (for baking). There is no doubt if we had to live on what I’ve put up, we would not survive; but why am I thinking in these all-or-nothing terms? Instead, why not appreciate how second-nature putting up food has become? Not vast quantities, but little bits here and there. It does add up, and will make our winter more flavourful. There is so much summer bounty, and no way to preserve it perfectly. The way of all things perishable.
Cheery, huh.
This post has been written in the midst of serving children breakfasts and trying to meet their variety of demands (poorly, due to focussing on this posting instead). And now it’s time to hop on bicycles and head to swim lessons.
Thursday, Aug 13, 2009 | Backyard, Chores, Play, Summer, Swimming |
Here’s what’s happening in our yard this morning. Add in the sounds of the children yelling over the chipper, and you get the full picture.
Below, our Monday evening activity. Also better than television. Add in a popsicle and a scrounged-up frozen chocolate chip cookie or two, and Kevin’s soccer-playing night looks a whole lot more fun for this Mama.
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This summer, I’ve heavily loaded the front end of our summer holiday. Whether this proves to be a good idea or not has yet to be established, but at the very least, it will prevent the early lethargy and cries of boredom that marked the early days of last summer’s holiday.
