i sing a song ...

liam and susanna sing together in our church's All Angels choir, which is comprised of four-year olds and kindergartners who rehearse each wednesday night and have the privilege of singing in "big church" three or four times a year.  their first performance was this morning in honor of All Saints Day.

from where i was sitting, it's hard to see susanna (you might make her out on the far left with a periwinkle hairbow).  but liam is in the third row, smack dab in the middle.  he takes this job quite seriously and masters the words and belts out the tune. 

the choir director did ask me very kindly if i could encourage him to turn down his volume a bit.  when i brought it up, he told me, "i need to sing loudly so that even people in the back row can hear!" to which i responded, "well, yes, honey -- but remember that there are 35 other children helping you out."

i'm not quite sure the message sunk in; if you close your eyes and listen, the one voice trumping all others is our son -- who really can't carry a tune in a bucket.  still, to me there's nothing sweeter than a chorus of children's voices praising God, even if they're a bit out of tune.  enjoy!

wordless wednesday

the fair, the fair, the unforgettable fair / north carolina comes to life with the unforgettable fair! 

(if you grew up in the raleigh area in the 1980s, you totally remember that commercial.  if you didn't, well, you weren't missing much.)

we braved the record-breaking crowds last week and took the kids to the fair.  the weather was perfect, we found close free parking, saw a great magician, rode almost all the kiddie rides without having to wait in line, and inhaled some really unhealthy but delicious food.  and got in some really interesting people-watching to boot.

thankfully, susanna just made the height requirement for every ride they wanted to do

who says "glee" is just the name of a tv show?

 three of the fair food groups: cotton candy, ice cream, and funnel cakes

the only thing we didn't do: try the 1500-calorie krispy kreme doughnut burger.  we wanted to live to see the 2011 fair.

i'd like to buy a vowel

it's amazing what a little over two months of kindergarten will do for a kid.  where we've observed liam's largest gains has been in his writing.  he's never been a big fan of anything that requires fine motor skills, probably because he's never had great fine motor skills.  (one of those chicken-and-the-egg scenarios, i suppose.)  while susanna could sit at the table and draw for two hours straight, liam's never been inclined to sit still with a marker or crayon in his hand.  until now.  he's learned how to form all of his uppercase and lowercase letters, and loves to combine them into messages for us, or in labels on his pictures, or on a scoreboard to represent his imaginary basketball games he makes up in his head.

and a byproduct of all this writing is a newfound interest in spelling.  he'll often flip around letters ("beach" might look like "becah", and "light" might look like "lihgt") and will sometimes omit one completely, but he's getting a pretty good handle on how to create words. 

so while he was writing a short book report the other day for homework, he misspelled the word "him" by forgetting the "i" in the middle.  i launched into a quick lesson on vowels, and how every word in the english language requires a vowel.  (i figured that the 19 weird words in scrabble that do not might be a topic for another day.)

tonight, the four of us were in the car, and out of the blue, liam says, "i have a friend who does not have a vowel in his name."

(by the way, i have no idea why he's thinking about vowels on a saturday afternoon after spending four hours playing outside and on his way to a family party.  the kid is funny.)

"i'm not so sure about that," i said.  "remember that every word has to have at least one vowel."

"but i know someone who doesn't have a vowel!" he insisted.

he's probably talking about his friend ty, i thought.  i had only listed out a, e, i, o, and u in my earlier lesson; i hadn't expected to have to explain how that pesky "y" sometimes fits the bill as well.  so the teacher in me geared up for another grammar lesson.  "well, there's one letter that's kind of funny that we didn't talk about earlier.  it's the letter 'y'," i began.

he interrupted me.  "oh, his name doesn't have a 'y' in it.  and it doesn't have a vowel."

"honey, no matter what, i promise you that every name you've ever heard of has a vowel in it.  who are you talking about?"

"D.J."

wordless wednesday

susanna's often a nut to crack.  with most new experiences, she's very reticent; she'll often to cling to my legs as she assesses the situation and figures out what she wants to do.  whereas liam will jump in full steam ahead, she tends to tread carefully.

ironically, it's the times when i wish she would take her time and evaulate what's going on that she decides to throw caution to the wind and showcase her daredevil side.  she likes to keep us guessing, i suppose.

so on sunday, when we attended a friend's fifth birthday party at a local horse farm, i didn't know which susanna we'd see.  i prepared myself for the possibility that she would refuse to go anywhere near the horse and instead just sit on the sidelines and eat a few cupcakes.  but, true to form, she surprised me.  she insisted on being in the first group of riders (the four horses had to cycle through a few times) and did not give me a second glance as she held onto the saddle and trotted off into the woods with her guide.

oh, and she wanted to make sure that i pointed out the most important part of the pictures below: her new pink cowgirl boots.

 

see spot read

See Spot Read is a local program that connects therapy dogs with kids.  its website explains its mission:   

Numerous programs are springing up around the country that recognize the benefits of pairing children with certified therapy dogs to improve reading performance.

Literacy specialists acknowledge that children who are below their peers in reading skills are often intimidated by reading aloud in a group, have lower self-esteem, and view reading as a chore. Dog reading programs are based on the premise that children will find reading to an animal less intimidating than reading to their peers, parents or teachers.

Research with therapy animals indicates that children with low self-esteem are often more willing to interact with an animal than with another person. Being with the dog is relaxing and fun, and builds a positive association with reading activities. Instead of reading being a chore, it becomes something to look forward to when a dog is involved.

See Spot Read volunteers offer a program to Wake County libraries and other facilities that serve children where we bring therapy dogs to work with kids on building reading skills. We're also fostering positive interactions between children and dogs and have seen many kids overcome their shyness or fear of dogs.

now, liam obviously isn't below grade level in reading skills, but i knew he'd enjoy it for other reasons.  so this past sunday afternoon, he chose a book from his personal collection, and my mom and i took him to a local library to participate. he met freddie, a five-year old shepherd mix, plopped down on the floor right next to him, and opened up his book.  (he'd fittingly chosen his all-time favorite, The Best Pet of All, about a little boy who goes to great lengths to convince his mom that he needs a dog.)  and then he read the entire story to freddie.  

i'd be lying if i said that freddie was mesmerized from start to finish.  truth be told, he was facing the opposite direction for much of it.  but he was quiet and attentive, and his handler assured liam that freddie was definitely listening and soaking it all in. 

 

don't you love things like this?  when people see a need that exists among two groups, and come up with a solution that benefits both?  i would have never thought to pair up young readers with therapy dogs, but after seeing it in action, it makes total sense. 

 
as they say, every dog has its day.  and every little boy who has the privilege of reading to one, well, he has his day too.

pardon me

susanna sure knows how to take her time while eating. there are many explanations for the grazing-like behavior she exhibits at the kitchen table: she gets distracted; she talks too much; she chews slowly; she counts the bites on her plate.  and often it's that she really wants dessert but knows that she must try all of her food first, and she hopes that if she sits there for long enough, either i will be so senile in my old age that i'll just give her the bowl of ice cream she's craving, or i'll have to acknolwedge that in a battle of wills, she has the perseverance to outlast me any day of the week.  who knows.  but as much as i enjoy our weekday lunches together, after about thirty minutes i've hit my limit and will often vacate the room to tackle other projects.

last monday was one of those days.  i'd placed her plate in front of her at about 12:30, and had joined her as we talked about her morning at preschool.  by 1:00, i'd finished my sandwich, put all the food back in the fridge, cleaned the counters, and loaded the dishwasher.  and yet, there she sat, humming some song to herself without a care in the world.  so i told her i would be upstairs folding laundry.

ten more minutes went by, and as i put away the final pairs of socks in liam's drawer, i heard her voice at maximum volume wafting up the stairs.  "MOMMY!" she yelled, and then continued yelling something else that i couldn't make out.

i probably couldn't make it out because i was so focused on the sheer rudeness of my four-year old daughter.  since when does she think it's acceptable to scream at me from across the house? i wondered.  chris and i have always been serious about teaching our kids manners; i know we must seem like nazis to some people (i think my new york city cousin's jaw dropped the first time liam said "yes ma'am" to her) but that's just the way we've always done things.  most of it's just basic common courtesy, not only with adults but peers as well:  they don't interrupt a conversation unless it really can't wait, and only then with an "excuse me"; they reply with a "yes?" instead of "what?" when they hear their name; they say "please" and "thank you" without being prompted.  and right along with all the others i mentioned is the fact that polite people -- adults and children alike -- do not scream at each other.  if the person you're speaking to is out of earshot, well then you better get your little feet moving.

so i ignored her, figuring that if she got no response, she'd have no choice but to get out of her chair and find me.  instead, i heard it again, this time even louder.  "MOMMMMYYYYYY!"  and then, again, something i couldn't quite hear.

i bristled.  one more time, i thought.  i'll let her do it one more time before i react.  and then i heard her again.

i marched halfway down the stairs and said, "susanna, you know you are not supposed to yell.  i'm upstairs.  if you have something to say and i'm not nearby, you need to come find me and say it to me instead of screaming."

finally, it clicked.  i heard her push back her chair, climb up the stairs, and make her way down the hall.  when she approached me, i said, "well hello, susanna!  i'm so glad to see you.  now, what is it that is so important?"

"i needed to ask you something," she said.

"i see," i replied.  "and what is it, that you felt compelled to remain in your chair and yell?"

she smiled sweetly.  "may i please be excused?"

can i FORCE you to watch this?

jacks of all trades, my children are.  in their off time, susanna and liam have been busy teaching college kids in california all about physics.  their aunt (and my sister) leslie is a university professor and likes to insert their photos into various presentations.  i particularly enjoyed this one, since she said it was designed for her most basic class and i actually understood most of what's in it.

i suppose if i have additional questions, i can just ask the kids.

(if you want to open up the show in another window, here's the link.)