This is Tolman's first day with Cub Scouts. They're going to Cub Country. We set the alarm and woke up early so that I would make sure to get him up in time to go; turns out he was already up and fully dressed in his new scout gear and didn't need breakfast. I remember how I used to get excited like that.
But more than his excitement, I appreciated seeing what came next. I stayed and watched for a minute after dropping him off while the leader talked to the boys about a few rules. First, she asked them to pick a buddy. She didn't notice one boy's choice and assigned him to someone; immediately he put his head down in his arms and would not talk with her. Someone else explained the situation and she assigned him to the buddy he wanted, so he finally looked up and answered her questions. In contrast, when she first asked who wanted to pick their buddy, Tolman quickly raised his hand, but I saw the disappointment as the leader let someone else pick first and both of his friends in the group paired up together, leaving him out. What a way to start the day with a dose of rejection! But he stayed calm and let her assign him with someone who he didn't know.
I expect he's going to have a fantastic day. And I have high hopes for this young man's future.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
A Novel with Integrity and Determination
I finished Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre" a few months ago, and the story has stayed with me. I'm going to recommend this to my girls -- and any young person -- because Jane displays a wonderful strength of character that makes her an inspiration for anyone.
Jane makes choices in the book that might not be right for others in the same position, but she makes them her own. She explains herself as she makes choices on small and large issues, from how to deal with her family and friends up to marriage and her life's work. In each of these situations, Jane makes a choice that is all her own, sometimes even creating an option that forces others to take stock of themselves. But the most enlightening part is how she arrives at each decision... and how she keeps her integrity and determines to live and deal with the consequences of each one.
One other marvelous part of the novel is Charlotte's description of the main characters. She manages to create realistic people having qualities to which I can relate, and she clearly identifies their quirks and sometimes subtle weaknesses. Personally, I don't even perceive these things in other people, and usually not in a way that I can consciously put into words.
I need to read more... at least, more works like "Jane Eyre".
Jane makes choices in the book that might not be right for others in the same position, but she makes them her own. She explains herself as she makes choices on small and large issues, from how to deal with her family and friends up to marriage and her life's work. In each of these situations, Jane makes a choice that is all her own, sometimes even creating an option that forces others to take stock of themselves. But the most enlightening part is how she arrives at each decision... and how she keeps her integrity and determines to live and deal with the consequences of each one.
One other marvelous part of the novel is Charlotte's description of the main characters. She manages to create realistic people having qualities to which I can relate, and she clearly identifies their quirks and sometimes subtle weaknesses. Personally, I don't even perceive these things in other people, and usually not in a way that I can consciously put into words.
I need to read more... at least, more works like "Jane Eyre".
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Police Are Watching
It was Saturday, and since there was plenty of work to do with our family business, I planned to go in to that office to get some things done. I played basketball at 8, ate breakfast, and then made some phone calls for our sick Olivia and for our broken computer, and by that time I felt I should just go in my sweats without showering or shaving; before walking out he door, Lynnette took one look at me and asked if I was going like that; I've learned some of the basic hints, so I put on a baseball cap so I wouldn't "scare anyone"... or maybe so that she wouldn't be embarrassed if I met anyone she knows.
Since Lynnette was working and doing chores, I offered to take Thomas, our 4-year-old who is infamous for throwing tantrums and being difficult at the worst possible times. (All our four kids are adopted; I'm afraid we would have stopped with him if he were our first.) There's always a chance that he'll throw a huge wrench in the plans, but he's definitely easier to handle one-on-one, so I hoped he would cost me at most a half-hour sitting in time-out.
I actually thought to bring along fruit snacks and his coat, which is not like me. I threw them in the seats along with the rest of my mess; when I've got multiple projects going on, you can see my disorganization spread throughout my car.
As we left, Thomas asked, "Can I ride my scooter?" He's a funny kid: sometimes he likes to walk to our destination while I drive close by, at least part of the way. Of course, he wanted to ride his scooter in the middle of the street; I made him ride on the other side of the street while I drove on my side, not too far ahead or behind lest he yell for me to stay close to him.
We went almost a mile, crossing one street and approaching the next street just before the freeway, so I said, "Thomas, I'd like to go fast now. Would you come in so we can go? You can have a fruit snack." He thought a sec and said "OK!" and brought his scooter across the street; I popped the trunk and fit his scooter in with the junk, then let him in the car and gave him a treat.
We took off, and as we got on the freeway I remembered his seat-belt, so I pulled over and buckled him in.
It's only 10 minutes to the downtown 4th South exit. We got off and headed to the next street. As I was waiting to turn onto 5th South I noticed a police car immediately behind me and to the left, angled to get right behind me and in front of the next car in line. Weird, I thought; you don't often see a cop doing something strange in traffic. As soon as I turned, his lights went on and he pulled me over. Great.
He came up to my window and asked me for my license and registration, but before I even got them he said, "I need you to put your keys on top of the car." OK... now I was getting a bit nervous. I instinctively went to my pockets, and of course he barked, "Get your hands out of your pockets, Sir." Sorry! Then he looked in the back and asked about Thomas, and said he'd need Thomas to get out of the car. OK... now I was extremely nervous. I start recalling stories about impersonators, and I wonder who I need to call to verify that everything's on the up-and-up. I asked him something (I don't recall what), and he quickly says, "We had someone report a man picking up a little boy on a scooter."
What a relief!
Seriously, that bit of information was a monumental shift in my perspective. One second earlier I was feeling scared and physically jittery, both for my son as well as myself. However, after hearing that, those feeling immediately washed away and I was genuinely appreciative and even giddy that a policeman was watchful enough to see us and stop us out of concern for Thomas; I was also glad that someone called in, worried for him... because this happened to be a situation where everything was extremely suspicious: a young Hispanic boy scooting along alone, followed by a grungy, white driver who offers him candy to get in a rather disheveled car. (I wonder these kinds of situations are actually common with me?)
The policeman took Thomas behind my car and knelt down to talk with him. Others arrived; I was asked if I had a picture, and other questions (such as if I had called anyone, since I had my phone out looking for pictures). They called Lynnette to ask her some questions, too. (You'll have to ask her about that sometime.) Police kept arriving until there were at least 8 around, with at least 5 police cars behind me as well as in the next lane over. I'm not exaggerating. Finally, they were fairly satisfied and they let me get out and be with Thomas; when they were totally finished I went around and shook everyone's hand. They gave Thomas a teddy bear. It was smiles all around... and especially for me. It turned into one of those cool times when you feel a glow for hours, appreciating people who have just done something magnificent for you.
Since Lynnette was working and doing chores, I offered to take Thomas, our 4-year-old who is infamous for throwing tantrums and being difficult at the worst possible times. (All our four kids are adopted; I'm afraid we would have stopped with him if he were our first.) There's always a chance that he'll throw a huge wrench in the plans, but he's definitely easier to handle one-on-one, so I hoped he would cost me at most a half-hour sitting in time-out.
I actually thought to bring along fruit snacks and his coat, which is not like me. I threw them in the seats along with the rest of my mess; when I've got multiple projects going on, you can see my disorganization spread throughout my car.
As we left, Thomas asked, "Can I ride my scooter?" He's a funny kid: sometimes he likes to walk to our destination while I drive close by, at least part of the way. Of course, he wanted to ride his scooter in the middle of the street; I made him ride on the other side of the street while I drove on my side, not too far ahead or behind lest he yell for me to stay close to him.
We went almost a mile, crossing one street and approaching the next street just before the freeway, so I said, "Thomas, I'd like to go fast now. Would you come in so we can go? You can have a fruit snack." He thought a sec and said "OK!" and brought his scooter across the street; I popped the trunk and fit his scooter in with the junk, then let him in the car and gave him a treat.
We took off, and as we got on the freeway I remembered his seat-belt, so I pulled over and buckled him in.
It's only 10 minutes to the downtown 4th South exit. We got off and headed to the next street. As I was waiting to turn onto 5th South I noticed a police car immediately behind me and to the left, angled to get right behind me and in front of the next car in line. Weird, I thought; you don't often see a cop doing something strange in traffic. As soon as I turned, his lights went on and he pulled me over. Great.
He came up to my window and asked me for my license and registration, but before I even got them he said, "I need you to put your keys on top of the car." OK... now I was getting a bit nervous. I instinctively went to my pockets, and of course he barked, "Get your hands out of your pockets, Sir." Sorry! Then he looked in the back and asked about Thomas, and said he'd need Thomas to get out of the car. OK... now I was extremely nervous. I start recalling stories about impersonators, and I wonder who I need to call to verify that everything's on the up-and-up. I asked him something (I don't recall what), and he quickly says, "We had someone report a man picking up a little boy on a scooter."
What a relief!
Seriously, that bit of information was a monumental shift in my perspective. One second earlier I was feeling scared and physically jittery, both for my son as well as myself. However, after hearing that, those feeling immediately washed away and I was genuinely appreciative and even giddy that a policeman was watchful enough to see us and stop us out of concern for Thomas; I was also glad that someone called in, worried for him... because this happened to be a situation where everything was extremely suspicious: a young Hispanic boy scooting along alone, followed by a grungy, white driver who offers him candy to get in a rather disheveled car. (I wonder these kinds of situations are actually common with me?)
The policeman took Thomas behind my car and knelt down to talk with him. Others arrived; I was asked if I had a picture, and other questions (such as if I had called anyone, since I had my phone out looking for pictures). They called Lynnette to ask her some questions, too. (You'll have to ask her about that sometime.) Police kept arriving until there were at least 8 around, with at least 5 police cars behind me as well as in the next lane over. I'm not exaggerating. Finally, they were fairly satisfied and they let me get out and be with Thomas; when they were totally finished I went around and shook everyone's hand. They gave Thomas a teddy bear. It was smiles all around... and especially for me. It turned into one of those cool times when you feel a glow for hours, appreciating people who have just done something magnificent for you.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Helping My Own Kids
One morning recently I helped Ellie a little bit extra with her math. She was a bit hesitant, saying it's frustrating when she doesn't understand. True. But I tried to help visualize and take small steps through the calculations of area and volume. It seemed like she understood, but whether she did or not, afterward she told me: "You're good at teaching math. You actually explain it."
Sunday, April 5, 2009
A Speech (All Four Sentences of It)
Tolman agreed to give a talk in his class again. The last time, he didn't prepare and then simply didn't want to do it, and I made sure he went directly to a leader himself and told her that he wouldn't do it. I thought he wouldn't volunteer to talk again.
Well, this time I just found out the night before, so that night and the next morning I asked a few times if he wanted any help, and he always said "no". Finally in church, he asked me if he had to do it. I tole him I wouldn't force him, so he said he didn't want to do it. That's great; I just explained the consequence: if he wasn't going to participate with his class and follow through on his commitments, he wouldn't be able to stay with his class. Instead, he'd have to spend his time somewhere else, like my class. He didn't like that very much; he kept asking and complaining, and finally said angrily, "OK, I'll do it. But I don't want any help!"
Well, I knew it wouldn't end there, but it wasn't until we were singing the final song that he asked if I would help him. I told him it was too late for me to help, but I talked with him during the song: I told how I pick a story to tell; he came up with one, and he practiced saying the whole thing. He forgot how to wrap it up at the end, so we talked about it and he did it again with everything right. I felt that much was an accomplishment, and it was positive because he was no longer angry. However, I worried that he wouldn't remember everything.
So we went and sat at the front, and almost immediately he asked if I remembered it, because he had forgotten. Actually, I honestly couldn't hear what he said earlier, so I was sorry but I couldn't help at that point. When it was time to stand, I made the mistake of going with him up to the podium; he didn't say anything and looked at me for help. I told him to go ahead, and he whispered that he was thinking, so I sat down again. He was up there for a few seconds longer, just standing without saying anything. Finally, he told his entire story and ended it perfectly. It was short, but it was all his! I grabbed him and gave him a huge bear hug and told him I was proud.
I heard from a friend that he looked down the whole time, but I don't care. He owned it, and he finished it.
Well, this time I just found out the night before, so that night and the next morning I asked a few times if he wanted any help, and he always said "no". Finally in church, he asked me if he had to do it. I tole him I wouldn't force him, so he said he didn't want to do it. That's great; I just explained the consequence: if he wasn't going to participate with his class and follow through on his commitments, he wouldn't be able to stay with his class. Instead, he'd have to spend his time somewhere else, like my class. He didn't like that very much; he kept asking and complaining, and finally said angrily, "OK, I'll do it. But I don't want any help!"
Well, I knew it wouldn't end there, but it wasn't until we were singing the final song that he asked if I would help him. I told him it was too late for me to help, but I talked with him during the song: I told how I pick a story to tell; he came up with one, and he practiced saying the whole thing. He forgot how to wrap it up at the end, so we talked about it and he did it again with everything right. I felt that much was an accomplishment, and it was positive because he was no longer angry. However, I worried that he wouldn't remember everything.
So we went and sat at the front, and almost immediately he asked if I remembered it, because he had forgotten. Actually, I honestly couldn't hear what he said earlier, so I was sorry but I couldn't help at that point. When it was time to stand, I made the mistake of going with him up to the podium; he didn't say anything and looked at me for help. I told him to go ahead, and he whispered that he was thinking, so I sat down again. He was up there for a few seconds longer, just standing without saying anything. Finally, he told his entire story and ended it perfectly. It was short, but it was all his! I grabbed him and gave him a huge bear hug and told him I was proud.
I heard from a friend that he looked down the whole time, but I don't care. He owned it, and he finished it.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Comfort
Thomas is our boy who resists doing anything new, so I was very happy when he agreed to practice riding a bike without training wheels. Sure enough, he pedaled hard, so he's almost ready to go it alone; he just has to be able to brake and stop by himself. So that's what we practiced: stopping without falling down.
I'm used to running around for basketball, but for some reason his starts and stops and near-crashes quickly had me winded!
After a number of tries, he started saying that he wanted to do it by himself. He's quite ready to pedal by himself, and maybe I should have allowed him to go and see for himself what happens at the end. But I said I'd help start and push him ONLY if we practice stopping, too; if he wanted me to totally let him go, then I would also let him get started all by himself. He kept asking, so I let him do it all by himself. He struggled to get on the bike, but he fell; I cushioned his fall, but he put his face down on the cement and balled. I sat down next to him. We just sat there for a minute while he wailed. He took his time and yelled for the sympathy of anyone nearby, spilling tears on the driveway.
Then he moved over to get next to me, curled up on his side, put his head in my lap, and went quiet. I put my hand on his shoulder. And we just sat for a while. The sky was overcast and a breeze was blowing, cool but comfortable here as we're emerging from winter. I hope I'll never lose that snapshot of us sitting there, with nobody else nearby... everything still and silent except for the company of the winter wind.
What a marvellous thing, to be trusted as a source of comfort!
I'm used to running around for basketball, but for some reason his starts and stops and near-crashes quickly had me winded!
After a number of tries, he started saying that he wanted to do it by himself. He's quite ready to pedal by himself, and maybe I should have allowed him to go and see for himself what happens at the end. But I said I'd help start and push him ONLY if we practice stopping, too; if he wanted me to totally let him go, then I would also let him get started all by himself. He kept asking, so I let him do it all by himself. He struggled to get on the bike, but he fell; I cushioned his fall, but he put his face down on the cement and balled. I sat down next to him. We just sat there for a minute while he wailed. He took his time and yelled for the sympathy of anyone nearby, spilling tears on the driveway.
Then he moved over to get next to me, curled up on his side, put his head in my lap, and went quiet. I put my hand on his shoulder. And we just sat for a while. The sky was overcast and a breeze was blowing, cool but comfortable here as we're emerging from winter. I hope I'll never lose that snapshot of us sitting there, with nobody else nearby... everything still and silent except for the company of the winter wind.
What a marvellous thing, to be trusted as a source of comfort!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
a great meeting with caring people
The other day, we had a great conference with some school teachers and administrators. It was about 50 intense minutes with 8 adults. I'll highlight 5 seconds of it as an example of why it was great.
We were mostly done, and the principal (Mrs. White) started talking straight at our daughter. She got direct, talking a bit sternly about what she expected. At one point, Mrs. White told our girl how she was sixth in some ranking in her class. Later, Mrs. White asked her, "Do you know why I mentioned your ranking?" I understood; she mentioned it because it showed how our girl was very capable, and able to do great work if she would apply herself. However, that's not how she took it; she said something about getting to the top place, meaning she felt like she was expected to improve from sixth to first.
Mrs. White contintued, not catching that she had misunderstood. So our Vice-Principal Mrs. Fletcher said something to our girl, correcting the misunderstanding. At this point, Mrs. White caught on to the confusion, and she attempted to fix it as she continued. All of this was done in a spirit of cooperation, with attitudes that showed respect even if someone needed correction.
Much more went on in the meeting, with many individual perspectives and even somewhat contrary opinions. In fact, there were times that someone was cut off or their point was dismissed because it didn't help with our goal. But everyone in the room was focused on a constructive outcome. Although I don't think it was perfect for anyone, I do believe everyone could feel the care and concern for our girl, and everyone showed true respect for one another throughout. It gave me pause afterward. It's good to be a part of that kind of thing.
What a great meeting.
We were mostly done, and the principal (Mrs. White) started talking straight at our daughter. She got direct, talking a bit sternly about what she expected. At one point, Mrs. White told our girl how she was sixth in some ranking in her class. Later, Mrs. White asked her, "Do you know why I mentioned your ranking?" I understood; she mentioned it because it showed how our girl was very capable, and able to do great work if she would apply herself. However, that's not how she took it; she said something about getting to the top place, meaning she felt like she was expected to improve from sixth to first.
Mrs. White contintued, not catching that she had misunderstood. So our Vice-Principal Mrs. Fletcher said something to our girl, correcting the misunderstanding. At this point, Mrs. White caught on to the confusion, and she attempted to fix it as she continued. All of this was done in a spirit of cooperation, with attitudes that showed respect even if someone needed correction.
Much more went on in the meeting, with many individual perspectives and even somewhat contrary opinions. In fact, there were times that someone was cut off or their point was dismissed because it didn't help with our goal. But everyone in the room was focused on a constructive outcome. Although I don't think it was perfect for anyone, I do believe everyone could feel the care and concern for our girl, and everyone showed true respect for one another throughout. It gave me pause afterward. It's good to be a part of that kind of thing.
What a great meeting.
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