Chapter books, great books, award-winning books, and letters

We've passed another milestone on the path to literacy. Last week, I began reading David a chapter book--Stuart Little. Previous most bedtime reading was stories that we could get through in a single sitting. The occasional exception might be when I simply did not have it in me to Bartholomew Cubbins start-to-finish for the 1,000th time and I would split it over two nights. But I came across our copy of Stuart Little while cleaning a couple of weeks ago and decided to give it a go.


It is a great choice for first chapter book. Each chapter is only five-or-six pages most of them have a plot arc within them. The language is for the most part direct and simple with just the right amount of advanced vocabulary. It is fairly entertaining for the child and the adult. David is eating it up. I am impressed with the amount of information he retains as well as his over-all interest in the book. Simon could not be more painfully bored. But he has his own milestone that I'll get to in a minute.

So onward and upward with the chapter books. If you have recommendations for a four-year-old, I would love to hear them. I assume when we get to the end of this one, David will want me to start it over again, so there is no rush. But we have reached the next step in his library building.

Speaking of reading, I have been thinking about Great Books for kids. I plan to focus the boy's education around a "Great Books" curriculum to the degree that I am able and want to get started. You know how you can get a quadrillion books of Bible stories for children? Well we would certainly love a high-quality volume of those. But I also want some stories of Great Literature for children. These are more difficult to come by, but they are out there--teh stories of writers like Homer, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Melville, Dickens etc. as well as the standard classic stories for children. Also, I have found some selections of poetry, as well as children's versions of stories from the Arabian Nights. That last one demonstrates the difficult waters we get into here. I brought a children's telling of Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves home from the library forgetting that it is a story of gore, dismemberment (and rememberment), and boiling oil. I had to practically make up a new story and skip over certain pictures as I was reading it. Please do not feel obligated to find Titus for kids. But I want to get David started on as much of this as possible. I would like him to be familiar with the Great Books of Western Civilization starting with the stories contained therein. Frankly, it the only way I'll become familiar with them myself.

My second general recommendation is this article about Caldecott winners. By those for Christmas. Get some for David and Simon, too. The only Caldecott that I know we own is Where the Wild Things Are.

As for Simon's milestone--letters in the environment. When we are out and about, he has begun pointing out letters and numbers. Not by name, usually, but just as general fact; "letters daddy!" Signs on buildings, mostly. This is interesting to me because I don't recall David ever doing this. Simon seems generally more interested in letters than David ever has been. He is also more interested in coloring than David generally ever has been.

Ssss Ehhh Ksss

I am very proud to announce that David has passed an important milestone on the path to literacy. We work with him quite a bit on letter sounds and he pretty much knows the what sound each letter makes (well, at least one sound per letter anyway). He is still struggling a bit with short vowel distinctions. But he has not been able to mush the sounds together into a word. He has not been able to get C-A-T from "Kuh. Aaa. Tuh" to "cat."

Until yesterday. For the first time he looked at a series of letters, not as several unrelated sounds, but as a pronounced unit.

We were in Brooke's truck where he was messing with a promotional beach ball containing this logo:

Which he proudly parsed as "SEX."

So, we had to remind him that "C" can be hard, as in "cat" but I did not let the significance of his effort pass.

We are on the way to literacy. Perhaps Freudian literary criticism, even.

Look! New photos up on Flickr!

Throwing in the towel, over and over

What is up with the spilling?!?! Can we not get through one single meal without someone spilling there drink? We have reverted back to the sippy cup with Simon because, even though he perfectly capable of delicately sipping a fine Chablis from a crystal glass, when he gets bored with his meal, he has to conduct hydro-entertainment experiments with his cup. David is simply distracted and clumsy. Then tonight, I had carefully set both boys' cups out away from them and there wildly gesticulating robot-velociraptor-tentacle-laser arms. In doing so, they were within reach of my gracelessness and I knocked one over.

We are averaging two towels per meal this week.

Don't let Simon drive the tanker.

House Party One would have been ok

As I have mentioned, if David gets up early in the morning, he gets to watch TV so that, left to his own devices, he doesn't burn the house down or wake up his mom (in no particular order of importance). This morning, he awoke just as I was getting my socks on to leave. I grabbed the remote, activated the toob, and pressed in channel eight--PBS--so he could watch some Clifford, the Commercial Free Dog (with the help of viewers like you). No, he wanted "five, eight" Disney. Who showed him that? Well, I didn't have time to stick around and see what would be on Disney at seven am and I am not comfortable with him watching commercial TV by himself (well I am not comfortable with him watching any TV, but you don't care). Channel eight or nothing. He went. To. Pieces. Flopping around on the couch and crying real tears. Then he explained that when I left he was just going to change it to five, eight himself even if I put the remote up on top of the TV because he can get it there by climbing up on the furniture.

Now, when I type it out like that, I am inclined to think that I probably should have unplugged the TV at that point put the remote in the garbage disposal. But he was so cute. He was trying to be defiant but was just pitiful and clearly had no idea of the gravity of what he was saying. Plus, I didn't have time to peel him off the ceiling. So I reiterated that it was eight or nothing and he acquiesced. He even hugged me before I left.

So, what did I deprive him over over on the Disney channel? According the TV Guide, Little Einsteins followed by the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. And I just realized, he had the channel wrong. Disney is 45. "Five, eight" is Comedy Central, where he would have been watching House Party II.

David gets the remote

More on the genius of WALL-E

Basically, any configuration of Legos can be declared some character from the film.

Social carnotaur

I sat on the couch reading Saturday afternoon while Simon napped and David played outside. Occasionally I would peek out the window to check on him. He was running around with a boy who is six or seven and girl who is eight or nine. I am not sure what they were doing as they roamed over the parking lot and the "island" in the middle of the lot, but it was clear that the two older kids were setting the agenda, playing with each other, and that David was floating around the periphery, participating as much as possible. I give the older kids credit for including him to the degree that they did, but he seemed to be working hard for their attention. My first reaction was pity, but I checked myself.

I have to give David props for his ability to socialize. He will walk up to anyone of about any age, befriend them, and play well with them. He generally does not overwhelm and rarely allows himself to be pushed around. We had been to the Mall playground that morning where there were many kids of all ages. Among them were four boys between the ages of 3 and 5 running around and around (and around and around). David ran up to one of them, struck his Velociraptor pose with hooked fingers, and hissed menacingly. The boy he was challenging struck a similar pose and hissed back. And they were fast friends for the next hour, running circuits, chasing, switching from game to game. Sometimes David led, sometime he followed, all the time he enjoyed himself immensely.

I don't need to pity him during those times when he tackles a larger social situation. He is happy to be on the periphery of some older kids' play for awhile, but I know he will not remain there long.

Burned

Simon has a second degree burn along the half-inch length of the back of his right thumb's proximal phalanx. I normally do not let Simon in the kitchen because he is stubbornly resolved to tear it apart or in some way injure himself. Today, when I excused the boys after breakfast and began cleaning, Simon wanted to stay in his seat. He does this sometimes--usually before meals--sits in his chair and watches me prepare or clean up. I was doing the dishes and didn't notice that his slipped off his chair, walked across the kitchen to the stove behind me, reached up and touched the skillet just as I turned around.

The skillet was cold. He didn't burn himself today. He did that Thursday morning at mom's. Before she could react he darted into the kitchen, up to the stove, and reached for the skillet in which she was cooking. The burn was pretty bad and made him miserable. Today is the first day that he didn't complain about it hurting and didn't put up a fuss when I changed the bandage. He does avoid using that hand as much as possible, which is a pain since it is his dominant hand. But in spite of the misery of that experience he still walked up to another skillet today and touched it. I shouted in alarm, picked him up and set him down outside the gate that normally prevents him from entering the kitchen. His eyes welled up with big, wet, offended tears.

Consummate scientist: That skillet burned me, but that mean this one would too?

Grandpa's 80th B-day

I don't know if I'll keep this here, but it is the quickest way to show it to those of you who care and make sure it is ok.

Filed under: Things I didn't know that I didn't know about the economy

A short list of items that, one month ago, I knew and/or cared little about, but which I could now discuss for several minutes at a cocktail party

Collateralized debt obligations
Stock injection
Credit default swaps
The role of the Federal Reserve vs. the Treasury
Mortgage securities
TED Spread
Treasury 3-month yield
Commercial Paper
Iceland
Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac
LIBOR
Moral Hazard

I will be available for speaking engagements forthwith.

Your mother drove to Ohio

Thursday morning, pre-dawn, David, Simon, Skylar, Brooke, Isabelle, and I set off on a 13-hour road trip in Grandpa's minivan. When we returned Sunday night, we had completed the longest stretch of road travel without vomit in David and Simon's life.--26 hours plus the time we spent driving around our destination. It was memorable for other reasons as well. For instance, I think we set a record for "your mother" jokes. As in "Your mother set a record for 'your mother' jokes."

The goal of the trip was of course cousin Andrea's wedding. Frankly, I was dreading this trip and in the days leading up to it I regretted having committed. It was a lot of money, a lot of time off and a lot of sitting in car seats not barfing for the boys. The boys don't have a lot of experience with sitting still in pews during church. One of the great advantages of a pew-free church is that there is a little more room for youngins and their energy. And if they are just too much to bear in our church, they can go down stairs and chill. I was concerned that I was traveling to Ohio to stand outside in the hallway of the building where my cousin was gettin' hitched babysitting two boys exhausted from too much travel.

Well, my fears were unfounded. The boys handled themselves well--mostly. There was one point in the service where a deacon was talking without a microphone and everyone was kind of straining to hear him. At this point Simon announced that he had to poop in case anyone in the room was interested--no one seemed to be. Oh and when the groomsmen were all lined up at the front, Simon had to count them for everyone. Otherwise, they were great.

The ceremony was lovely, I should say that the many ceremonies of the day were lovely and moving. A wedding day is filled with official and unofficial formalities, from who sits where, to the vows, to speeches, to that point when the children get to finally run around the reception hall and occasionally dance with the adults. I found myself choked up many times. Andrea married a hansom Lieutenant in the Air Force and all the men standing up for him were Air Force, Navy, and Army, all in dress uniform--quiet, precise, and noble. The ceremony was a generally traditional Western Christian affair conducted with belief and affirmation. The saber arch, the car vandalized with shoe polish, the embarrassing uncle, the single young women eying the single young soldiers--as I watched it all I was reminded of this previously posted snippet

Because it is not the rituals we honor
but our trust in what they signify, these rites
that honor us as witnesses — whether to watch
lovers swear loyalty in a careless world
or a newborn washed with water and oil

But don't take my word for it. Here is what the boys have to say:

To Switzerland, and beyond

Seriously, this should not even be possible. I am amazed, and envious. I'll survive, but please, no one tell David.

Baracuda

Q: What is the difference between a Pit Bull and a Hockey Mom?

A: One is a natural thing perverted by our obsession with violent competition.

The other is just a dog.

Very briefly on economics

Back in May, the best show on the radio, This American Life, dedicated an entire episode to the most comprehensive and comprehensible explanation of the Housing Crisis I have heard. The popularity of this episode has spawned a new podcast and blog on NPR--Planet Money. One particular entry, "Who Can I Blame?" is particularly timely as the McCain/Obama show attempts to entertain us with stories about how the other is to blame and how they themselves are not.

Good reading although I don't know if I can go along with the bit about how other countries share the blame for limiting investment. Part of me reads that as "shame on you for being wary of the possibly corrosive affects of the Global Economy and exercising some of the same regulations that may have kept us out of this mess." But I could be wrong.

This is our Topeka

Check out this video. It is nothing exciting, but it gets really great at the 2:18 point but don't blink; it goes back to the mundane around 2:19.

Simon's square

Over a meal last week, David was clarifying some point about the timeline of his life and asked how old Simon was when he himself was born. I told him Simon didn't exist then. He didn't understand what I meant by that. I pointed to the white board on the wall behind me and asked if there was a green square on the board. No. I explained that a green square did not exist on the board yet and then I used the (green) marker, drew a square, and filled it in. "Do you see a green square now?"
"Yes"
"But you remember back before I drew the square, right?"
"Yes"
"Before I drew it, it did not exist. When you were a baby, that was before Simon existed."
I don't know if he "understood," but he seemed content with the explanation. Then, a couple of days ago he noted that the square was gone. Jaime had erased to make room for a grocery list. Whining just a big, he asked me to redraw the square because Simon still exists.

(Simon)

Tricycle

Kitty

Palin and an American Dream

A coworker IMed me today:

Scott: In a blunt interview with the Associated Press, the star of the Jason Bourne film series also said there was a good chance John McCain would die in his first term in office and the thought of a President Palin is "terrifying."

“It’s like a really bad Disney movie — the hockey mom…from Alaska, and she’s the president, and it’s like she’s facing down Vladimir Putin and using the folksy stuff she learned at the hockey rink. And it’s absurd, it’s totally absurd, and I don't understand why people aren’t talking about how absurd it is," Damon said.

Jason: and his pundant credentials are?

Scott: Yeah, but that is a pretty funny image of her and Putin.

Jason: yeah, it is. But, like a Disney movie, it bears no relationship to how international politics really works. Bush and Putin don't have policy-changing verbal showdowns facing each other over a boardroom table--or tumbleweeds or something. They have people. The people brief them and most of the work is committee work. Sometimes, at the very beginning and the very end, the president has to digest all of the committee work and make a decision. That decision is going to be influenced to a degree by experience, but to a greater degree by wisdom. Palin has either developed wisdom or she has not. She can face the information and make a choice based on what is right, or not. And frankly, a lot of the time, she'll be wrong--just like Churchill, Roosevelt, and Reagan.

I have no idea if Palin is fit for office, but when she was nominated, I felt something that I have never felt in my life--I believed that anyone can grow up to be president. It used to be a common phrase--"eat your vegetables so you can grow up to be president." Part of our national self-identity was that anyone could be president. We were mocked world-wide for the notion. Nowadays, I doubt any parent would utter that incentive to their kids because they know it is a lie. Palin may stink as VP, I doubt we'll ever find out. But if she makes it, then, to quote another line from this race, I'll feel proud of America for the first time in my life.

To cardboard, hot glue, and beyond

Probably the earliest "father and son" memory I have is an afternoon home when I was four or five--about David's age, perhaps. Dad cut a piece of cardboard (or was is a grocery bag?) in the shape of a horse's head, drew in the details, and affixed to the top of a yard stick. I rode it around like a cowboy. It is a brief memory--almost a still photo--but one I think about often and fondly. I was hoping I would have opportunities to create such a memory with my own son. That opportunity presented itself this last weekend.

David has been begging me to make a cardboard Buzz Lightyear for him for a few weeks. Having no idea how I might go about this, I stalled until this last weekend. It turns out that what he wanted was a much simpler affair than I realized. He simply wanted a piece of cardboard cut out in the shape of Buzz Lightyear--with the wings out. So I googled Buzz, worked out what pose David had in mind (flying, with both arms extended), did some test sketches and then rendered Buzz on cardboard. Thank God for my art degree. I did the wings separately and glued them on. My only goal was that it would last as long as it took to make it (about three hours). So far, so good. He (rather, "Zorg") ripped Buzz's hands off but I reattached them. Jaime suggested I make them black. David seems satisfied. I was actually pleased when he disobeyed my order to go up stairs and ran to the front door to show the Buzz to his friend who was playing in our front yard.

"But Jason," you may be saying, "you are soooooo against having cartoon-character toys in the house." Well, as I mentioned earlier in relation to the legos, I don't mind my kids cutting the teeth of their imagination on cartoon characters in an imaginative way. Creating Buzz out of cardboard, or legos (or sticks or pieces of lint) allows him to stretch his imagination a bit without having an additional toy lying around that will eventually go out of style and have to be replaced with whatever the next fad is. I look forward to the day when David and Simon are creating their own worlds, but I am content to make them work a bit to recreate someone else's.