Turtle Talk

I have been taking an undergraduate computer science class so I can learn to program in Python.  I am loving it and sometimes in the middle of class I totally get everything the professor is saying and I think, "Damn, I missed my calling and I should have majored in computer science in college."  Other days the professor starts talking about radians and sine and cosine and I realize that a whole MAJOR in computer science is pretty math-y and I think, "Screw this, Thank God I didn't major in this in college."  

Anyway, a couple weeks ago we were given the homework assignment to write a Turtle Graphics Program.  This is the Logo language stuff where the kids type in a command and make a turtle move across the screen, turn left and right, and draw a picture.    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logo_(programming_language)

Anyone know what I am talking about?  I totally used a program like this in the 1980's, in 3rd or 4th grade.  It was my very first introduction to using a computer.  Actually, I thought that was all computers were used for--to draw little pictures of hexagons and stuff.  Not long after that, when my family purchased a Real Home Computer.   I remember being shocked that we got a printer too; that seemed like such an unnecessary luxury to me.  I think I even said, "Wow, so when I make pictures on the screen I'll be able to print them out?"  Little did I know my parents expected me to do more with that machine than just Turtle Graphics.      

And now, 30 years later, I was being asked to write the interpreter that translates the kid's command of  "fd 200" in Logo language to make the turtle actually move forward 200 pixels.  How cool is that?  So I wrote the program and was feeling So Proud and dying to show it to someone who would appreciate it.

And then the most amazing coincidence ever occurred.  Tai came home from first grade this past Monday and I asked, "What did you do in computer class today?  (Yes, they have computer class starting in kindergarten now).  And he said "Oh!  It was cool, we talked to a turtle on the screen.  I typed stuff in and made the turtle move!"

HOLY CRAP!  So of course I pulled up my program and let him play with it for 20 minutes.  It was so cool to be able to do that.  Too bad he could not appreciate all the programming (not to mention the trigonometry) I had to do to make it work.  And of course he kept telling the turtle to move forward more than 7,000 pixels when the graphics window I made was only 600 x 700.  Kids, man.  They find a way to break everything.

New Developmental Milestone

Recently, Quynh has been a bit extra-emotional and more prone to tantrums that usual.  Last week we had a horrible drawn-out, tear-filled drop-off at preschool that all started over a picture she asked me to draw her before I left for work.  Prior to that, we had this nice little ritual where I'd outline a silly picture on paper before I left and she'd happily color it in and show it to me at the end of the day.

But last week that all fell apart when the picture I drew was Not.Quite.Right. so she ripped it up and asked me to start over.  And when I refused she flipped out.  For 20 minutes.  So I vowed not to draw her pictures at school anymore if it's going to cause drama.

This morning I brought her into school, said hello to her teacher and friends, and hugged her goodbye.  As I went to leave she said, "I want you to draw me a picture."

No way was I falling for that game again. Nuh-uh.  No sir.  So I calmly said, "No, I don't do that anymore because it can make you upset."  (And inside I was thinking, "Oh, no, here it comes, she's going to scream and I have to get to work......what do I do?")

But instead of screaming she looked at me with just a hint of malice in her eyes explained, "If you don't draw me a picture I'm just going to start throwing a tantrum."

Wow.  What a complete and total understanding of power and threats.  Any sympathy I might have had for her if she had started to cry vanished the moment she verbalized her intentions.  So I called her on it.  I said, "Threats won't work with me. "  And I turned around and left.  

And I didn't hear a peep out of her.

Stranded

Lately, during dinner, we have been playing little games.  For a while it was either Twenty Questions or I-Spy, but Tai's new favorite is "NameYourFive(IMeanSixIMeanSeven)FavoriteMoviesI'llGoFirst!"

That was cute the first time, but then he wanted to do it daily.  And my favorite movies don't change that often.  So, in an attempt to change the subject a bit, one night I posed this question:

If you were going to be stranded on a deserted island and could only bring three things, what would you bring?

This is the kind of game I recall playing as a kid, though I was perhaps a bit older than T and Q are now.  I feel like the logical response to this question is to (a) ask lots of clarifying questions about the island and what exists there, and then (b) list some items to bring that will help you survive (matches, a hatchet, food, warm clothing, duct tape, etc.)

Since Tai and Quynh are only 6 and 4, and have never played this game before, and have never even seen Cast Away, I had absolutely no idea how they would respond.  But of course, they managed to surprise and amaze me.

Quynh's response was thoughtful but swift:
1. Chocolate
2. My Family
3. My house and everything in it

She gets extra points for totally thinking outside the box about what a "thing" is.

I can't exactly recall what Tai's first two items were, though I think he adopted Quynh's "my family" line after seeing it elicit a big, "Awwwww" from me.  But his third item sticks out in my mind:

"My school.  And everyone in it."  (Because otherwise he wouldn't get to learn stuff and get smarter, was the sentiment.)

Then they turned the question on me.  But after hearing their answers, my usual ideas seemed absurdly un-imaginative.

Soon enough Tai was making up his own versions of the game.  I particularly liked, "If you were going to be in a hot air balloon for a week and could only bring 6 things what would they be?"  This brought about an animated discussion between Tai and Minh about weight considerations and whether you really need to bring something to pee in, or can you just pee over the side of the basket.....

We might need some new dinner games.

The other day, the kids and I somehow got on the topic of what to do if they ever got lost.  I suggested they could always ask a police officer for help getting home, or finding their parents.  I checked to make sure both kids know their home address.

But then Quynh said, "Wouldn't I have to tell the police officer what my parents look like, so they could find you?" I couldn't resist, so I said, "Sure.  What would you tell them?"

"That my daddy has spiny hair.  And brown skin.  As dark as the skin of a potato."

Perfect.

Getting By On Her Good Looks

On July fourth our kids took part in a quaint little small-town bicycle parade, complete with watermelon, kiddie games, children dressed up as the Declaration of Independence, and prizes for the best decorated bikes. 

Two days prior, I went to Michael's Crafts and bought appropriately themed decor for them to tactfully affix to their bikes and helmets under my close supervision.  And then 10 minutes after I got the stuff home Tai had already used 3 pounds of painter's tape, and had flags and pinwheels taped to each other, dangling off the handlebars.  Sometimes basic physics escapes him.  Not to mention artistry.

But, he pretty much did it himself and was absolutely beaming with pride at the finished product, insisting he take it for a spin around the neighborhood to try it out.  His bike was adorned with garland, pinwheels, flags and sparkly ribbon.  He was totally fixated on the idea that he might actually win a prize for his efforts.    

Quynh, on the other hand, went for the whole less-is-more thing, but not in a classy way -- more like in a lazy way. She also insisted on doing it all herself, which meant she did not use the awesome garland I attempted to wrap around the frame of her trike.  Her decorations consisted of flags on the handlebars and two tiny amounts of ribbon wound here and there around the frame.  Very minimalist.

The fourth was disgustingly hot and humid, even at 9:30am, but the kids had a really fun time riding around in the middle of the street.  Quynh was just there for the pure fun of it, but Tai was preoccupied with winning.  He kept asking where the judges were and when the prizes would be handed out.  

This little parade took itself very seriously, categorizing entrants into bikes, trikes, scooters, and costumes, and splitting each group by gender.  Prizes were given for the "best" in each of these groups.  And the competition was stiff.  There were bikes and trikes so thoroughly decorated you could not see an inch of the underlying vehicle.  Some had balloons, some even had flashing lights.  As we stood there, melting in the heat, listening to them announce the winners, I was hoping for Tai to win and very pleased that Quynh didn't seem to even know what was going on--until they called her up for "best girls trike".

What?

She barely decorated it at all!  What about the trikes with streamers and garland and shiny stars?  Maybe the judges were rewarding Quynh for so obviously having done the decorating all by herself, when all the other little kids clearly had parental help?   Nah, I am pretty sure she won just because she is so darned cute.  It probably didn't matter what she was riding.    

Of course I was happy for her.  But I felt kind of awkward about it too, especially since Tai did not win in the boys bike category (where the competition was more serious).  He had put in so much more time and effort than his sister, yet she won a prize.  I guess we file this one under Life Lesson #17 -- shit ain't always fair.

Glasses.

Pretty much my whole life I've wanted glasses.  My mom always wore them and I used to ask when I would get to have them.  She always answered something like, "Oh, you'll need them when your eyes are old like mine," and assured me not to rush into something like that because it's not as glamorous as it seems.

I was told the same thing about shaving my legs ("Don't be in a rush to start too young, because it's a real chore!")  and braces as well ("You think you want them now, but just wait 'til you have them...")

And they were totally right.  Shaving is such a chore that I've been known to give it up completely in the depths of winter.  And while getting braces may have briefly made me feel older and unique (one of the first in the class to get them!) they were, in the end, a pain in the ass.  Not to mention the awesome headgear I got to wear at night that made me look decidedly not-cool.

So the same is likely true for glasses, I know.  Yes, most people with glasses find them to be an expense and a nuisance and not much more.  But those of us without glasses see them as a fun new accessory, right?  Whenever I go with Minh to pick out his new frames (because without his actual glasses on he can't even see what he looks like in the mirror) I inevitably wander off and start trying on frames for myself.  You know, just for fun.  I fantasize about finding just the right pair for me -- something fun and unique without being so trendy that they will go out of style too soon.  And then I snap back to reality and remember that I am supposed to be helping Minh choose between the dark grey or the black frames.

Well, my time has come.  I have my very own "baby prescription" as Minh calls it for some weak glasses to make it so that Minh doesn't have to read street signs and movie sub-titles to me all the time.

My own glasses shopping experience was not everything I had dreamed it would be.  Having the whole family at Costco with me, kids melting down, and cold food melting in the hot car, I had to make a pretty quick decision.  I had narrowed it down to two pairs -- Practical and Funky.  I was worried the funky ones were too out there, too quirky, but Minh liked them.  And when I put on the practical pair he feigned sleep.  Bam.  Done.  One pair of  Funky Glasses for me, thanks.

I don't even have them yet, but Quynh is already asking when she can get glasses.

Four (again).

When you have a baby you are not supposed to compare your baby to all the other babies.  You and your mommy friends are supposed to support each other and not secretly freak out when other 10 month-olds are already walking and yours is barely crawling.  And when you have a second baby you are not supposed to compare him or her to their sibling.  Every child is unique and individual and develops in their on way at their own pace.

But that's impossible.  Of course we compare them.

Quynh is turning four, so I felt compelled to go back and re-read this post from when Tai was the same age.  And I am struck by how different they are.  That's not to say that one is better than the other.  Just different.  While four-year-old Tai had a voracious appetite for facts and figures about the world around him, Quynh does not.  Just this morning Tai and I were discussing the different types of lightning (fascinating topic, right?) and Quynh interrupted us with, "I don't like the way you are talking, Mama.  When people talk like that it is so boring."

That is not to say that Quynh isn't smart.  She is.  She is a keen observer of what's going on around her, an articulate (usually) speaker, and never afraid to ask questions.  It seems like every day she is asking me what a new word means or how to spell something.  She is very invested in her writing, carefully printing out each letter.  And she beams with pride when she holds up three fingers on each hand and announces that 3+3=6.

At age four Tai was also learning to use the computer and very interested in any sort of video game.  I'm not sure Quynh has ever touched an actual computer.  She does use the ipad, but she basically treats it as her own personal TV, using only the PBSKids application.  She simply prefers watching shows to flinging birds across the screen.  (Tai is, of course, an expert bird-flinger).  

While I didn't blog about it, I do remember Tai being afraid to ride on a carousel horse at his fourth birthday party.  He liked the carousel very much, but would only ride on the stationary bench usually occupied by senior citizens.  Four year old Tai was also relatively reserved, preferring to sit on my lap when other children were dancing at a concert   Quynh, on the other hand, loves carousel horses and other rides as well.  She is bold and daring and always ready for audience participation.  She makes new friends easily and is so fearless that she has a habit of taking off on me in public places.  Just last month at a children's museum she purposely  left our family and joined a school field trip as they filed by in their matching t-shirts, because it looked like they were going to do something fun.

Quynh draws, she colors, she builds, she imagines.
Quynh runs, she climbs, she splashes, she digs.
Quynh yells, she argues, she compromises, she shares.  
Quynh sings, she dances, she poses, she smiles.  

Quynh is four.

  

Sometimes I Can't Understand My Kids

Even though Quynh speaks very well, she still does a few of those trademark toddler-isms.  For example, her r's still frequently come out sounding like w's.  As in, "I weally like this show."  This is why we had this misunderstanding yesterday while playing with potato heads:

Q: I am going to make a weah pwincess.
K: OK, a real princess, got it.
Q: No!  a weeeahd pwincess!
K: oh.  um.  a.... reed princess?
Q: NO!  A WEEEEAAAAHD pwincess.  weeahd, like disgusting.
K:  OH!!!  A Weird Princess!
Q: Yes!

Turns out it wasn't toddler-speak but maybe just a Boston accent?
And here she is -- a very weird princess, indeed:

This reminded me of a similar situation I had with Tai when he was about three-and-a-half years old.  We were driving in the car and he was looking at a book with lots of detailed cartoon pictures.  Suddenly, from the back seat he announced: "This goat has wiskerrings".  And our conversation proceeded like this:

K: What?
T: This goat has wiskerrings.
(Me wondering what a goat could possibly have that sounds like that?)
K: whiskser-ings?
T (annoyed): wiskerrings!
K: whiskey-rings?  (by this point I am completely dumbfounded and unsure why I can't understand him or why a children's book would include a drawing of whiskey.)
T: WISKERRINGS!
K: I'm sorry, but I can't understand you at all.  You'll need to show me when we stop the car.

When we arrived at our destination I asked him to show me what he was looking at in the book.  And what does he point to?  A cartoon goat wearing whisk earrings.  And, of course, that's exactly what Tai was saying.  This particular misunderstanding was totally Richard Scarry's fault.  Who puts those two words together?

Innocence

With all that has been going on lately it's comforting to get a glimpse into my kids' minds and just how innocent they still are.

Without really meaning to hide it from them, we managed to get away with not telling them about the bombings at the Boston Marathon or the manhunt that ensued 4 days later.  If they had gotten wind of it and asked we would have given them some basic answers, but I was thankful that they remained blissfully unaware.

Lately, Quynh is into creating art, playing babies, and watching My Little Pony.  She's not yet four so her innocence seems like a no-brainer.  But I was still pleased to hear her announce the other day that, "Dinosaurs, zombies, vampires, and bad guys are all extinct!"

Her older, wiser, more cynical brother immediately corrected her, much to my dismay.  Yet this boy who claims to be only interested bad, destructive, violent things (yet who also loves to watch My Little Pony) is not as worldly as he likes to think.  Just after the recent events in Boston, when everyone was still on edge, he and I were evacuated from the local rinky-dink mall by the police.  Word among the adults was that someone had reported a "suspicious vehicle" in the parking lot near the building.

Tai had a million questions for me as I hurried him out of there, explaining that the, "whole mall was closing."  Our conversation went something like this:

Tai: But why do we have to leave?
Me: Because the whole mall is closing. right. now.
Tai:  Wow, I have never been here before when the whole mall closed.  Why is it closing?
Me: Because there is something in the parking lot that might be dangerous.
Tai:   Oooooh!  Can we go see it?
Me: No, the police officers will go take care of it.  And they want us to leave to make sure we are safe.
Tai:  Awwww, I wish I was a police officer so I could go see it.  Hey, can we stop by Target?
Me: No, the whole mall is closing.
Tai:  What do you think would be so dangerous?  Oh, I know!  Maybe a HUGE daddy-long-legs?
Me:  Maybe  :)

Someday a giant spider will not be the first thing he thinks of when the police report "something dangerous" in the area.  But I hope that day is far, far off in the future.    

Forever Cat

We had to put our almost-fifteen-years-old cat, Nibbles, to sleep recently.  He had been sick for a while so we were all prepared for the inevitable.  The kids asked really good questions about the process of euthanasia, and they said loving goodbyes to Nibbles before school on that last morning.

The preschool pick-up report for Quynh that day was that she had been "emotional."  On the way home that evening, Tai asked how long the "special medicine" would take to stop Nibbies' heart.  He hadn't realized it would work right away and that Nibbles would not be there when we arrived home.   The part Quynh struggled with was the cremation.  She kept telling people Nibbles was going to be burned to death.

A week or so later we got the call to go pick up his ashes.  The kids were prepared for this too, since we already have one dead cat's ashes in our house -- a cat who died long before Tai was even born. They were interested to see the little metal box, but a tad disappointed no to be able to open it and check out the actual ashes.

Then, just this week, some friends sent us a children's book about "forever cats" and how, even after they leave this earth they are forever your cat.  We read the book at bedtime and it was immediately  followed by an interesting discussion.

Quynh opened with, "But sometimes cats die."  So I tried to explain that the book meant they are still your cat even after they die.  Because you still love them. And Minh said something about them living on in your heart, and in your memory. Tai said, "Nibbies is still here.  In a box.  On the mantle."

Eventually, we settled on Nibbles being forever in our memories, in our hearts, and on the mantle.

Today's Problem

I don't have a decent rain jacket.  Minh has an excellent one that I envy every time it rains.

So on each rainy day (like today) I curse myself for not having purchased a rain jacket.  Then I go online and browse women's rain jackets.  Then I think, "Well, actually there is no rush.  It's not like buying a jacket online is going to keep me any drier today.  By the time it arrives it will be sunny out.  I'll do this later."

Then, later, on a nice sunny day I remember that I was going to buy a rain jacket, but that seems completely ridiculous in that moment.  Why would I buy a rain jacket?  It's sunny out.

I have a similar problem with ironing work clothes.  I keep a big pile of wrinkled clothes waiting to be ironed in our bedroom.  I hate ironing, so during the week I walk by that big pile and mentally calculate that we have enough clean, ironed work-appropriate items in the closet to get us through the week.  I promise myself that I'll catch up on the ironing over the weekend so the closets will be all stocked up and ready for next week.

Then the weekend arrives and I think, "Why would I iron dress shirts today?  It's Saturday and we don't  need those until Monday..."

I seem to have a motivation problem.

Big Dreams

I only let my kids watch about 6-10 hours of TV a week.  Basically, they watch TV every day -- sometimes just a 30 minute show before school (so I can get myself showered and dressed for work).  And some days  it's an hour of cartoons in the morning and a 2-hour movie in the afternoon (Saturdays and Sundays can seem so long sometimes and we need to fill the hours).

While I actually feel like this is a lot of TV and I sometimes wonder if it's too much, Tai feels like it is the bare minimum and is constantly asking for more.  The other day he was lamenting the fact that we do not have a TV in the car #kindergartenfirstworldproblems.

He asked me if I wished we had a TV in the car and I said no, I feel like we watch enough TV at home.  Obviously feeling oppressed by my ridiculous notion that you don't need to stare at a screen 24 hours a day, he began fantasizing out loud about his future as a grown-up and it went like this:

Tai: Well, when I grow up and have a car it's going to have a TV.  And I'm always going to be the passenger so I can watch the TV.

Me:  So who will drive the car?

Tai:  My husband.  Wife.  Wait, men can marry men, right?

Me:  Yes.

Tai:  OK, then my husband or wife will drive the car.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Keeping his options open.

We Made it to February...

Tai made it through 100 days of kindergarten before announcing, "I'm ready for first grade."   His self-assessment of his own kindergarten skills went something like this:

• "Math is boring because it's like 2+2=4 and I already know how to add.  We don't even do minus or times yet."

• "Reading is boring because the books she gives me are too babysish."

• "Word study is boring because she is teaching us 2 and 3 letter words.  And sometimes even 1-letter words, like 'I'."

Best of all, he proceeded to tell me that he and three others were the best readers in the class and that his friend (we'll call her Anna) is, "The second smartest kid in the class."

Naturally, I asked who is the smartest kid in the class and that question was met with the unmistakable look of, You have to be kidding me -- did you seriously just ask that?  And then he back peddled just a bit and said, "Well, maybe me and Anna are tied for smartest."

Basic math?  check.

Beginning reading? check.

Humility?  needs work.

Dream Catcher

When Tai was about 3 or 4 years old he started talking about having bad dreams at night and asking us to buy him a dreamcatcher.  Minh and I figured it was a phase that would pass and we did not run out and buy him one right away.

Shortly thereafter we found ourselves on vacation in Maine, in a cute little gift shop with lots of odds and ends for sale.  And there it was, hanging in the front window -- a small, beaded, reasonably-priced dreamcatcher.  Tai spotted it and of course asked us to get it for him.  We did, and it has been hanging over his bed ever since.  It was the very last thing we packed when we moved, and it was hung up over his bed in his new room before he went to sleep the very first night in the new house.

And now Quynh is three-and-a-half and telling us every night at bedtime that she's afraid to go to sleep because she'll have bad dreams.  Some nights she is weepy and scared, other nights she is angry and belligerent.  All because she is certain the Big Bad Wolf is lurking right outside her bedroom door.

Without us even asking, Tai has been trying to help her through this.  Last week he gave her a picture he drew at school to hang up by her bed and look at while she falls asleep.  And then just the other night, as bedtime approached and Quynh became nervous, Tai suddenly announced, "Quynh can have my dreamcatcher."

Minh moved the talisman from above Tai's bed to above Quynh's bed and we all praised Tai for his kindness and generosity.  Tai stated out loud, in front of Quynh, "And I won't even be scared."  Then he whispered in my ear, "I think they just make that up so kids won't be scared."

The dreamcatcher is having the same impact on Quynh as it did on Tai -- she has now gone to bed peacefully two nights in a row.  Made up or not, it works for my kids.  Hopefully in a couple years Quynh will outgrow her need for it and pass it on some other preschooler who needs it.

Rainbow Gun (patent pending)

Sporadically, over the past year or so, Tai has mentioned to me that it would be cool to have a, "gun that shoots rainbows."  I think this is just his way of being able to talk to his hippy-dippy peace loving mom about how totally cool he thinks guns are.  Generally I just say, "Yeah that would be the best gun ever," and we move on.  But this evening we had a more in-depth conversation about his future invention.

*******************************

Tai: Mama, when I grow up I'm going to study, study, study and go to school and work hard and I  really am going to make a gun that shoots rainbows.

Me: You know, I bet you really could.  Tell me how you're going to do it. 

Tai: It's going to have a black thing and when you pull the trigger the black thing lifts up.  And gears!  It will have gears so the rainbows spin and the gears will start to turn when you pull the trigger, and the black thing lifts up.

Me: And then the rainbows shoot out?

Tai:  Yeah, but you can only use it when it's sunny out.

Me:  Of course!  What does our rainbow-catcher on our dining room window have?

Tai:  Yeah, I need one of those crystal things.  It will have one of those.  And solar panels.

Me:  A prism, yup.  So how will you start?

Tai: Well first I need to read, read, read and learn how the first REAL gun was made. 

Me:  Yes, you'll need to learn history.  And science and math.

Tai: I'll need to learn about gears, and crystals. 

Me: It sounds like you might really do this when you grow up. 

Tai:  Yeah, cuz I have a smart brain.

Me: And you work really hard.  You never give up even if you do something wrong the first time.  I like that about you.  And I love that you always ask questions so you can learn new things.

Tai: Yeah, and when I do this I'll be in a lab and there will be other scientists there so I'll just ask them if I have questions.

Me: Of course.

Tai:  But it will be my own lab.  But I'll probably have an assistant.  There will probably be like 20 scientists there.

***************************************

I just had to write this all down because it was too amazing/impressive/adorable to ever be forgotten.  My only hesitation in blogging it was giving away all his big plans because I'm staring to think he's really going to invent this thing one day.
 

How I Know I am Getting Old

Late one night last week I walked into a 99 Restaurant (on purpose) and asked if they were, "still open for dinner."

It was 7:15pm.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Dear 2001 Subaru Forester,

It's time to say goodbye. When we bought you we justified the cost of a Shiny New Car by vowing to drive you until your wheels fell off -- at least 15 years.  Well, your wheels are still in place and we only made it to 12 years and 4 months.  Still, you've had a good long run.  During your time with our family you've witnessed:

Graduate school
First jobs
Marriage
New jobs
Two home purchases
Two babies
Car seats
Diaper changes
The adoption and death of various pets
Countless camping trips

Gone are the days when we actually used your fancy bike rack, because we no longer ride our bikes.  And gone are the days when we used your trailer hitch to tow heavy-duty equipment to tackle big yard projects--because now we barely have time to mow the lawn.  We may not always have been 100% thrilled with you, and we may have even cursed your name on a few occasions   But you've been an excellent car and you deserve to retire.