Perhaps I just don’t remember being a child, or perhaps by working in special education my perspective has been skewed, but I’m pretty sure kids aren’t as smart as they use to be. This concerns me due to the fact that my future offspring is destined to be a genius (or at least a smarty pants), and I want him/her to have other little prodigies to play abacus with.
This was brought to the forefront of my mind the other day when one of the more intelligent students I work with asked me a question. Now, we’ve all had beat into our heads the cliché, “There are no stupid questions…” Okay, so maybe there are no stupid questions, but there apparently are questions that will force me to try desperately not to laugh out loud in a first grader’s face. As little Joe (names have been changed to protect the innocent) colored his zoo animals, he looks up at me and in all seriousness asked, “Who is the principal?” I answered matter of factly, “Mrs. Jones in the principal of our school.” With an inquisitive look he answered back, “No, not of our school, of everything…of this country?” Curious, and a little confused, I questioned, “Do you mean of the United States?”
“Yes! Who is the principal of the United States?
“Well…The president of the United States is George Bush.”
“No!” Joe retorted frustratedly, “Who is the PRINCIPAL of the United States? You know, the boss of everyone?”
Then it clicked in my head that to this wee first grader, the most powerful authority figure he could possibly imagine was a principal! The vision of George Bush eating turkey gravy from a tray with a little carton of 2% milk, giving terrorists time outs, and sliding into a wading pool of pudding when the country read 100 books forced me to gag on my laugh. But wait…this could work…instead of taxes, we could sell Mexico and Canada overpriced wrapping paper and peanut brittle! But I digress.
No matter how I worded it, the concept of president versus principal was just over little Joe’s head, as was the concept that the president is not exactly the “boss of everyone”. So, he left that session a little frustrated, and I left it a little disheartened at the educational system of which I’m a part. Oh well. I’m pretty sure that with my husband in our home, our little peanut will have an abnormal knowledge of America’s political system and a propensity for debate. And, I’m sure peanut can find some other juniors with whom to play TV watching, but that’s a later blog.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
Apparently, We Need a Baby Book...
Okay. I'll admit it. I haven't documented my life as much as many others. Though my father was quite an avid photographer when my older siblings were young, he stopped taking pictures when I was born. The result is that I only have a few pictures of myself as a baby.
When I asked him why, he told me that it was because he was paying too much money on film; oh the days before digital cameras...how did we get along? Now, I should disclose that I think this trait runs in the family. I hate spending money on anything, especially expendables such as gas and groceries. Indeed, I'd rather eat macaroni & cheese three times a day than to spend money on groceries.
The point is that I've never really been one to find value in documenting my personal history. I can trace my lineage back to my parents and I could, probably, find a picture of my grandparents, if I had to. My wife's family, on the other hand, has a very different story.
Christmas with my wife's parents is a little like being a celebrity and having paparazzi. You see, in contrast to my folks, my wife's parents have about fifty thousand boxes of pictures documenting every event in their childrens' lives. And, since the advent of digital cameras, there are probably as many more on their computer's hard drive. So, add it all up and it takes about 20 minutes to open a present at Christmas.
That's because the receiver must, first, get his/her picture taken with the wrapped gift. Subsequently, said receiver must stop and smile after each piece of tape is removed. Of course, the ritual is concluded when the present is unwrapped and the receiver gets one more picture with the gift next to his/her face. Then, move on to the next person and repeat the process. It's very fun and does seem two draw out the unwrapping to an all-day event.
So, with these two, drastically, different styles of documenting events, my wife and I make an interesting pair when shopping for Baby Books. I got no less than several dirty looks from the woman when I suggested we go to Goodwill and get a used book with all the writing in it already. After all, don't most kids follow about the same routine? And, let's face it, once the kid is 20 years old or so, does the child walking in April or May make a big difference? Don't get me wrong, we'll get some white out and write in our baby's name and place his or her pictures where appropriate. Alas, I was half joking.
But, if there is something I'm good at, it's cutting corners and getting things done quickly, if not well. After all, if there's one thing I know, scrapbooking and things like that take a lot of time. In the end, I guess I'm just afraid that many years from now we'll have all these baby books and nothing documented or written in them because we didn't have time, motivation, money, or any number of lame excuses.
When I asked him why, he told me that it was because he was paying too much money on film; oh the days before digital cameras...how did we get along? Now, I should disclose that I think this trait runs in the family. I hate spending money on anything, especially expendables such as gas and groceries. Indeed, I'd rather eat macaroni & cheese three times a day than to spend money on groceries.
The point is that I've never really been one to find value in documenting my personal history. I can trace my lineage back to my parents and I could, probably, find a picture of my grandparents, if I had to. My wife's family, on the other hand, has a very different story.
Christmas with my wife's parents is a little like being a celebrity and having paparazzi. You see, in contrast to my folks, my wife's parents have about fifty thousand boxes of pictures documenting every event in their childrens' lives. And, since the advent of digital cameras, there are probably as many more on their computer's hard drive. So, add it all up and it takes about 20 minutes to open a present at Christmas.
That's because the receiver must, first, get his/her picture taken with the wrapped gift. Subsequently, said receiver must stop and smile after each piece of tape is removed. Of course, the ritual is concluded when the present is unwrapped and the receiver gets one more picture with the gift next to his/her face. Then, move on to the next person and repeat the process. It's very fun and does seem two draw out the unwrapping to an all-day event.
So, with these two, drastically, different styles of documenting events, my wife and I make an interesting pair when shopping for Baby Books. I got no less than several dirty looks from the woman when I suggested we go to Goodwill and get a used book with all the writing in it already. After all, don't most kids follow about the same routine? And, let's face it, once the kid is 20 years old or so, does the child walking in April or May make a big difference? Don't get me wrong, we'll get some white out and write in our baby's name and place his or her pictures where appropriate. Alas, I was half joking.
But, if there is something I'm good at, it's cutting corners and getting things done quickly, if not well. After all, if there's one thing I know, scrapbooking and things like that take a lot of time. In the end, I guess I'm just afraid that many years from now we'll have all these baby books and nothing documented or written in them because we didn't have time, motivation, money, or any number of lame excuses.
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