weinraub’s words

Two cute speech oddities from the kids.

Benjamin always asks me if he can “fimish” my Coke.

Becca now comments on gross stuff by calling it “scusting”.

Love them kids!

So, I’m lying on the bed, watching some TV, and I ask Becca to hand me my mobile phone, which is on the desk beside her.

She brings it over to me, but adds with a smirk, “Why, are your legs broken?” using the exact words that I have used with her when I feel she is being overly lazy.

Hoisted by my own petard, I was!

Addendum: Becca was so pleased with my reaction of roaring laughter that she tried it on Mommy, too. It didn’t end well.

Benjamin just told me, “Daddy, I want to be a scientist.”

So proud.

So, this evening, I’m working at the computer and Benjamin (4yo next month) hands me the uneaten third of a Nutella (chocolate-and-hazelnut spread) sandwich, saying “No, thank you, Daddy. I don’t want it.”

Now, we had finished McDonald’s for dinner and he had already completed the Nutella sandwich that I made for him as a dessert treat. So I am all set to barge outside in a fit of self-righteous fury – compounded by his implicit waste, in asking for something but not finishing it – and chastise whoever had succumbed to his boyish charms and made this second – and clearly unnecessary – junk-food treat for him.

“Where did you get this?” I demand.

“Benjamin,” he answers.

He’s clearly not understanding me. “No,” I persist. “Who made this for you?”

“Benjamin,” he repeats.

“You made this? All by yourself?” I ask suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“You got the bread?”

“Yes.”

“And the chocolate?”

“Yes.”

“The chocolate was on a high shelf, wasn’t it?”

“No, it was low,” he counters, adding a gesture conveying the notion of lowness.

“What about the knife?”

“No. Knife is dangerous,” he reminds me, like a teacher patiently instructing a simple-minded child, adding a patronizing finger wag for good measure.

“So what did you use?”

“Spoon.”

Yep. He did it all by himself. Got the bread from the refrigerator, the Nutella from the pantry shelf, and the spoon from the kitchen drawer. A quick investigation outside shows several large, chocolate smear marks on the floor where he apparently performed the complex operation.

Needless to say, fury has given way to joyful pride. What a great kid!

Update/Addendum: It is now the next day. What do I find when I open the kitchen drawer? Two chocolate covered spoons.

I found this a: http://www.magicalchildhood.com/articles/4yo.htm

I was on a parenting bulletin board recently and read a post by a mother who was worried that her 4 1/2 year old did not know enough. “What should a 4 year old know?” she asked.

Most of the answers left me not only saddened but pretty soundly annoyed. One mom posted a laundry list of all of the things her son knew. Counting to 100, planets, how to write his first and last name, and on and on. Others chimed in with how much more their children already knew, some who were only 3. A few posted URL’s to lists of what each age should know. The fewest yet said that each child develops at his own pace and not to worry.

It bothered me greatly to see these mothers responding to a worried mom by adding to her concern, with lists of all the things their children could do that hers couldn’t. We are such a competitive culture that even our preschoolers have become trophies and bragging rights. Childhood shouldn’t be a race.

So here, I offer my list of what a 4 year old should know.

1. She should know that she is loved wholly and unconditionally, all of the time.
2. He should know that he is safe and he should know how to keep himself safe in public, with others, and in varied situations. He should know that he can trust his instincts about people and that he never has to do something that doesn’t feel right, no matter who is asking. He should know his personal rights and that his family will back them up.
3. She should know how to laugh, act silly, be goofy and use her imagination. She should know that it is always okay to paint the sky orange and give cats 6 legs.
4. He should know his own interests and be encouraged to follow them. If he could care less about learning his numbers, his parents should realize he’ll learn them accidentally soon enough and let him immerse himself instead in rocket ships, drawing, dinosaurs or playing in the mud.
5. She should know that the world is magical and that so is she. She should know that she’s wonderful, brilliant, creative, compassionate and marvelous. She should know that it’s just as worthy to spend the day outside making daisy chains, mud pies and fairy houses as it is to practice phonics. Scratch that– way more worthy.

But more important, here’s what parents need to know.

1. That every child learns to walk, talk, read and do algebra at his own pace and that it will have no bearing on how well he walks, talks, reads or does algebra.
2. That the single biggest predictor of high academic achievement and high ACT scores is reading to children. Not flash cards, not workbooks, not fancy preschools, not blinking toys or computers, but mom or dad taking the time every day or night (or both!) to sit and read them wonderful books.
3. That being the smartest or most accomplished kid in class has never had any bearing on being the happiest. We are so caught up in trying to give our children “advantages” that we’re giving them lives as multi-tasked and stressful as ours. One of the biggest advantages we can give our children is a simple, carefree childhood.
4. That our children deserve to be surrounded by books, nature, art supplies and the freedom to explore them. Most of us could get rid of 90% of our children’s toys and they wouldn’t be missed, but some things are important– building toys like legos and blocks, creative toys like all types of art materials (good stuff), musical instruments (real ones and multicultural ones), dress up clothes and books, books, books. (Incidentally, much of this can be picked up quite cheaply at thrift shops.) They need to have the freedom to explore with these things too– to play with scoops of dried beans in the high chair (supervised, of course), to knead bread and make messes, to use paint and play dough and glitter at the kitchen table while we make supper even though it gets everywhere, to have a spot in the yard where it’s absolutely fine to dig up all the grass and make a mud pit.
5. That our children need more of us. We have become so good at saying that we need to take care of ourselves that some of us have used it as an excuse to have the rest of the world take care of our kids. Yes, we all need undisturbed baths, time with friends, sanity breaks and an occasional life outside of parenthood. But we live in a time when parenting magazines recommend trying to commit to 10 minutes a day with each child and scheduling one Saturday a month as family day. That’s not okay! Our children don’t need Nintendos, computers, after school activities, ballet lessons, play groups and soccer practice nearly as much as they need US.

They need fathers who sit and listen to their days, mothers who join in and make crafts with them, parents who take the time to read them stories and act like idiots with them. They need us to take walks with them and not mind the .1 MPH pace of a toddler on a spring night. They deserve to help us make supper even though it takes twice as long and makes it twice as much work. They deserve to know that they’re a priority for us and that we truly love to be with them.

Sho ’nuff.

We have a beach here in Phuket named Kamala Beach. [Kamala is apparently a Sanskrit-based word meaning "derived from Lotus". Etymological corrections, additions welcome.]

Becca had just returned from a quick ride out there with one of our neighbors. She reported seeing a turtle swimming in the water and was pretty excited about it.

“That’s cool, sweetie,” I said. “Where did you see the turtle?”

“At the beach. In Camelot.”

Very cute.