Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Did we pass?
Noah went for an interview to enter Montessori preschool yesterday. Well, they didn't CALL it that; they called it a "visit." Okay. Sure.
We arrived promptly at 8:45 as scheduled. As if I could make that happen if I wanted to. I count this as evidence that God loves us and wants my boy to have an education. We walked in. "This must be NOAH!" the director's daughter (who's probably the assistant director, too) says with delight in her voice. She guides us down to a classroom where we're introduced to the teacher and her assistant, or rather I am -- Noah charges full-throttle through the door and directly up to a group of children I estimate to be approximately twice his age. "Hey, kids! What are you doing? Hey, what's that on your shirt? It's Lightning McQueen! Look! I have Lightning McQueen shoes! Can I play with you?" Within moments, with the bond of common adoration for a cartoon racecar established, my son is being instructed by a 5-y-o boy in the creation of a Pink Tower. Which would be Norman Rockwell beautiful, except that the older boy's technique for showing Noah that his tower isn't right is to kick it over with his foot and tell him to do it again. Okay, he needs some work on pedagogy. And yet, there was no objection from Noah, who gamely built the tower over and over again until he got it right.
Stark contrast alert: I am CERTAIN that at day care, this same incident from one of his buddies would have resulted in a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth. Somehow, though, coming from a bigger older child? Totally acceptable.
I was STUNNED by the sudden maturity of my son, and his complete passion for all things in that room. He could barely stay on one task, but only because the siren song of some other little tray of goodies was nearly overwhelming. But in about 30 minutes, he did about 4 different activities, including counting flags, using clothes pins, putting beads on sticks, and building the Pink Tower. He was just ecstatic the entire time, at one point waving a handful of small flags held like a bouquet, and singing "I counted flags! Hooray for me!" at full voice. This prompted the teacher to sweep in, hug him and practically kiss his cheek, and tell me that he was adorable.
Yes, of course he is! As if I doubted such a thing.
The director's daughter came to retrieve us, and we walked back up the hall to the office where he played with the bead maze while we discussed the rest of the admission process. But soon he'd decided that watching us old ladies talk business was no fun. He worked his way to the office door, stepped outside, and leaned back in. "I'll be right back. I'll be back in ONNNNNE MINNNNUTE..." and then he took off for the classroom.
I lured him back into the office as I gathered up paperwork and asked a final question, and he walked up and down the long hallway outside of the office, peeking in doors and windows. Another child arrived for school a little late, darted into the bathroom there at the entrance, and flushed the industrial strength toilet just as Noah walked by. Noah lept back into the office and onto my lap and hugged me tightly. "Mommy! That SKEEERED me!"
I think that last bit clinched the interview. Who wouldn't want that much cuteness in their next entering class?
We arrived promptly at 8:45 as scheduled. As if I could make that happen if I wanted to. I count this as evidence that God loves us and wants my boy to have an education. We walked in. "This must be NOAH!" the director's daughter (who's probably the assistant director, too) says with delight in her voice. She guides us down to a classroom where we're introduced to the teacher and her assistant, or rather I am -- Noah charges full-throttle through the door and directly up to a group of children I estimate to be approximately twice his age. "Hey, kids! What are you doing? Hey, what's that on your shirt? It's Lightning McQueen! Look! I have Lightning McQueen shoes! Can I play with you?" Within moments, with the bond of common adoration for a cartoon racecar established, my son is being instructed by a 5-y-o boy in the creation of a Pink Tower. Which would be Norman Rockwell beautiful, except that the older boy's technique for showing Noah that his tower isn't right is to kick it over with his foot and tell him to do it again. Okay, he needs some work on pedagogy. And yet, there was no objection from Noah, who gamely built the tower over and over again until he got it right.
Stark contrast alert: I am CERTAIN that at day care, this same incident from one of his buddies would have resulted in a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth. Somehow, though, coming from a bigger older child? Totally acceptable.
I was STUNNED by the sudden maturity of my son, and his complete passion for all things in that room. He could barely stay on one task, but only because the siren song of some other little tray of goodies was nearly overwhelming. But in about 30 minutes, he did about 4 different activities, including counting flags, using clothes pins, putting beads on sticks, and building the Pink Tower. He was just ecstatic the entire time, at one point waving a handful of small flags held like a bouquet, and singing "I counted flags! Hooray for me!" at full voice. This prompted the teacher to sweep in, hug him and practically kiss his cheek, and tell me that he was adorable.
Yes, of course he is! As if I doubted such a thing.
The director's daughter came to retrieve us, and we walked back up the hall to the office where he played with the bead maze while we discussed the rest of the admission process. But soon he'd decided that watching us old ladies talk business was no fun. He worked his way to the office door, stepped outside, and leaned back in. "I'll be right back. I'll be back in ONNNNNE MINNNNUTE..." and then he took off for the classroom.
I lured him back into the office as I gathered up paperwork and asked a final question, and he walked up and down the long hallway outside of the office, peeking in doors and windows. Another child arrived for school a little late, darted into the bathroom there at the entrance, and flushed the industrial strength toilet just as Noah walked by. Noah lept back into the office and onto my lap and hugged me tightly. "Mommy! That SKEEERED me!"
I think that last bit clinched the interview. Who wouldn't want that much cuteness in their next entering class?
Friday, April 20, 2007
Noah crawled up into bed with me when he woke up for his morning snuggle, and the cat joined us. We patted the cat and talked about purring and her ears, and then Noah pointed out her tail and said "she gotta tail." I said "yes, she does." And after a moment of thought, I said "I wish *I* had a tail."
He pondered briefly and with a little bit of sadness in his voice, he said...
He pondered briefly and with a little bit of sadness in his voice, he said...
"No, Mommy - you gotta butt."
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Let's fly in an AIRPLANE!
We just returned from a 6-day trip to visit Noah's grandparents in Key West. This involved a 5-leg trip in each direction; in there-ward order:
Reverse to come home.
I don't think we were more than 2 minutes into the taxi ride when Noah made his first announcement that he was "ready to get out of here." Uh, okay kid, but you've got a good long while to wait to be done with this trip, and it's too late to punch out now.
He handled the plane ride with aplomb, other than the struggle over putting on his seat belt. He's actually a good little traveling companion, sat in my lap and identified objects outside the window as we taxied and took off, and wasn't at all taken aback by going to 30,000 feet. He snacked and played with toys and talked to me, and really we just had a real good trip. And he got excited about landing, and was delighted to see his Nana at the airport.
And after dinner that night, he said "Okay, let's go on the airplane and go home now." It took the first 2 days for him to realize we were staying for awhile. But he loved the little sleeping bag/inflatable mattress his grandmother got for him to sleep in, and loved the beach, and LOVED riding in his stroller up and down Duvall Street and napping. He loved being with his grandparents. Really, he just had a great time, and other than a few expected and (I think) normal not-quite-3-year-old meltdowns when thwarted or when things weren't moving to his speed, he was a complete and total angel.
He enthusiastically got back on the plane to come home, and even willingly put his seat belt on and sat in his own seat during takeoff on the long leg of the return trip, and placidly handled the multi-car trip home. We came into the house just about 10pm, and he was asleep in his big-boy bed (instead of his "new liiiiittle bed") within minutes of coming in.
While we were there, he played in the surf a few times, which in Key West is blissfully low, and ran-ran-ran on the beach, and dug in the sand like a terrier, and threw rocks into the water. We had dinner one night at friends of his grandparents who have a pool, and he swam-swam-swam until he was nearly unconscious and starving. I mean really -- what's not to like about such a trip?
And in the most exciting news of all, we left the house without a single sippy cup or pacifier, and survived the whole trip. He had plastic cups with straws and did just fine, and other than when he was a little freaked out by the strange bed at first, he didn't give a second thought to his pacifier, something I couldn't have imagined leaving the house without a couple of months ago, much less the state for a week.
I can't believe what a big guy he's become, or how much fun I had traveling with him. Or how proud I am of him.
- Car trip from home to where we parked the car, a couple of miles from the airport
- Taxi ride from the car to the airport
- First leg of airplane trip to Miami
- Second leg of airplane trip from Miami to Key West
- Car trip from airport to Nana's house
Reverse to come home.
I don't think we were more than 2 minutes into the taxi ride when Noah made his first announcement that he was "ready to get out of here." Uh, okay kid, but you've got a good long while to wait to be done with this trip, and it's too late to punch out now.
He handled the plane ride with aplomb, other than the struggle over putting on his seat belt. He's actually a good little traveling companion, sat in my lap and identified objects outside the window as we taxied and took off, and wasn't at all taken aback by going to 30,000 feet. He snacked and played with toys and talked to me, and really we just had a real good trip. And he got excited about landing, and was delighted to see his Nana at the airport.
And after dinner that night, he said "Okay, let's go on the airplane and go home now." It took the first 2 days for him to realize we were staying for awhile. But he loved the little sleeping bag/inflatable mattress his grandmother got for him to sleep in, and loved the beach, and LOVED riding in his stroller up and down Duvall Street and napping. He loved being with his grandparents. Really, he just had a great time, and other than a few expected and (I think) normal not-quite-3-year-old meltdowns when thwarted or when things weren't moving to his speed, he was a complete and total angel.
He enthusiastically got back on the plane to come home, and even willingly put his seat belt on and sat in his own seat during takeoff on the long leg of the return trip, and placidly handled the multi-car trip home. We came into the house just about 10pm, and he was asleep in his big-boy bed (instead of his "new liiiiittle bed") within minutes of coming in.
While we were there, he played in the surf a few times, which in Key West is blissfully low, and ran-ran-ran on the beach, and dug in the sand like a terrier, and threw rocks into the water. We had dinner one night at friends of his grandparents who have a pool, and he swam-swam-swam until he was nearly unconscious and starving. I mean really -- what's not to like about such a trip?
And in the most exciting news of all, we left the house without a single sippy cup or pacifier, and survived the whole trip. He had plastic cups with straws and did just fine, and other than when he was a little freaked out by the strange bed at first, he didn't give a second thought to his pacifier, something I couldn't have imagined leaving the house without a couple of months ago, much less the state for a week.
I can't believe what a big guy he's become, or how much fun I had traveling with him. Or how proud I am of him.
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