It’s Thursday. Like, Caloo-callay! (that’s jabber-talk, right there) It’s also 4:35 am. My wide-awakeness, guess I’ll choose to see it as a blessing and talk to the big, blue screen again. You know, if people 150 years ago were to hear that in the future you could wake up in the middle of the night, talk to a square in your room, and even expect response in some form from it, I bet they’d wanna see that pretty bad. I wonder if they’d be disappointed or awed by an iMac.
One of the things I did for Si’s b-day was to go to the Book Bin in Corvallis and hunt down some of the classic kids books that she’s frankly been missing out on. For me, this means older books. Maybe there’s some outstanding literature for youth that has come out more recently, but ‘The Magic Tree House’ series leaves me disappointed in the writing, and even her funny books that go through the grades and feature different crazy teachers, they lack a depth of narrative reflective of the absolute crap of Disney/Nickelodeon sitcom writing.
So I went and found some Great Brain books, some George Selden and James Howe and E.L. Konigsburg. I found Danny, Champion of the World by Roald Dahl, which is one of my all time favorite books and has a little more narrative depth than some of his wild romps through imagination, though I’m not dissing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, or Freckle Juice by any stretch.
I wasn’t sure how she’d react to these books. I think I let it go too far, the Disney princess/Barbie phase. Let a kid subsist on a diet of crap culture, and they don’t really develop any discernment of what’s worthwhile and what’s bubblegum.
But the first story is going surprisingly well. I look forward to the two chapters of reading at night even more than she does now, it’s a pleasure to rediscover these books from my childhood. Rather than having her read (cus reading has been achievement oriented for so long) I’m having her just listen, listen to the story, something we haven’t done since she was seven, because the teachers at her school advocate the child doing the reading during reading time.
Again, balance, yeah? Being read to is a luxury of childhood, it’s a lot rarer when you reach adulthood. I want her to hear and to imagine. It’s also fun to use my expressions and imaginative voices to try and bring the stories to life. She’s been liking it so far. I’m so, so glad.
We might go on a snow vacation next week. I’m not sure. I haven’t yet managed to ‘feel’ Christmas, so an immersion in snow seems as good a last ditch effort to let this season in as anything.
Then again, I guess you don’t have to feel Christmas every year, just cus the calendar says to. When my brother and I were kids, there was always a certain amount of anxiety just in the fact that our parents were divorced, so Christmas time had to be split up somehow, and we were anxious about our dad who hadn’t remarried and had less family, but also we loved the big gathering and celebration at grandma’s house on our mother’s side, but you try not to show your preference.
I’ll never underestimate kids. Adults put on all these shows to try and make things seem simple for kids when they are really complicated, and half the time they don’t realize the kid is putting up a much more elaborate front for you, nearly all the time, to make their feelings appear simple and spontaneous, when they’re really staging and considering and balancing what reaction will be the best for everyone.
The cat is keepin’ on, though he trembled when I pet him this morning. I’ll be relieved to get him to the vet. He had a hard night, poor thing. Sleep.
Maybe I’ll sleep. lol. As if it were as simple as stating the intention to do so.
Well… you never know.
Signing off from the magic, blue screen for the time being…