My 2 kids were sitting quietly at the table. No arguing. No picking on each other. Caitlynn was reading and Miles was coloring.
They were even ignoring the TV that was on in the background.
I thought I had entered the Twilight Zone when I walked into the room to witness such an extraordinary event. It lasted about 20 minutes before one of them got up to do something else.
What is wrong with my kids? Reading instead of watching iCarly? Coloring instead of watching Spongebob? Wow. I'm speechless.
It didn't last, however. They ended up bickering about something and watching cartoons before heading off to bed. Another strange thing -- they went to bed without any argument.
I've come to a realization. This is so hard for me say. I'm figuratively choking back tears.
My kids are not geniuses.
It's a sad day for any parent when reality strikes and they realize they are not raising the next Einstein or Mozart. I had a sneaking suspicion when Caitlynn was having difficulty learning her multiplication tables last year. I just chose not to believe it. Einstein could probably multiply circles around the kids in his class.
I also realized that Miles is not a music genius simply because he's past the starting age for writing symphonies. Mozart started at age 3. Miles is now 5 and has yet to produce any sort of melody. There's still hope, however, that he's a genius like Einstein or Will Hunting. We'll see how his first year of kindergarten pans out.
I know, I know... I think y'all are surprised too (that my kids are not geniuses). Don't get me wrong, here. They are smart. Caitlynn has a strange affinity for spelling. She's quite good at it. And she seems to remember minute details of events, but I don't expect her to be in the Math Club in high school. And that's OK.
But it's hard to come to terms with this. We, as parents, are told that our kids can have IQs of 150 and above if they don't watch TV, read all the time, and learn how to add/subtract before kindergarten (and don't go to public school). Yeah. That's a bunch of hogwash. Let the kids watch Spongebob and put the Leap Frog thing down. Maybe kids just need to be kids with out the pressure of performing at the top of their class.
The vast majority of children, including yours, are not geniuses. Here's a glass of water to help you swallow that piece of reality down. My advice (because it counts): Find out what they are good at and let them steer their own way.
Side Note: I entered into a cooking blog contest and I need votes. Go to Cooking Rut and follow the links to vote. Thanks!!
First, let me start by congratulating you on another lost tooth. I know these things are not easy. There's a little blood and then time to adjust to living with a gaping hole in your mouth. I commend you on your efforts as you get used to losing more teeth over the next few years.
I would like to address the lack of compensation of your most recent tooth loss. You are under the impression that you will receive compensation for the tooth. In most cases, this is true. If you put the tooth under your pillow at night, then the next morning you will find money in its place. This is the way it has been done for centuries.
However, things get sticky (valid legal term) when you lose your tooth on the playground at school and you drop in on the ground, losing it forever. As it was stated in the contract you signed when you were born, in order to receive the compensation as set by your mom and dad, you must provide the tooth as collateral. Without the tooth present under your pillow, you cannot receive your quarter (or whatever amount specified by your parents).
I hope you understand my position as The Tooth Fairy. I cannot provide a service unless I am to receive something in return, i.e., your tooth. It is the way I am summoned by your mom. She lets me know there is a tooth under the pillow and I show up in the middle of the night to pick it up. In fact, she called me up yesterday to let me know about your situation and I explained to her the details of the contract. From what I hear (your sister can't keep her mouth shut), you are upset by the fact that you won't be receiving your money for the lost tooth.
I understand your grievance and I'm here to make amends. It appears as though you have another lost tooth. After this tooth falls out, make sure you keep it and put it under your pillow. I will be sure to give you a little something extra for the inconvenience you've incurred during this situation.
My hope is that this restores our business relationship. I look forward to working with you again in the near future.
Right now I'm being held hostage by a 9 year old little girl. She wants people to read her blog and comment on the posts. She won't let me go until I post this message on my blog.
If y'all want to read her little musings about her brother visit Caitlynn's Fun House.
She's posted quite a bit this evening (something about Bigfoot. I don't know...). This is what happens when she gets into my blogger account while I'm watching "The Rock" on Starz. I love the movie for its one-liners: "I'll take pleasure in guttin you, boy." Love it!
I'm studying for the GRE, so I can get into graduate school. I take the test on Thursday and my brain has officially reached capacity. You know how you feel when you eat too much at Thanksgiving? That's how my brain feels. It needs a nap in the recliner.
Part of the test involves knowing big vocabulary words. As I study these words, I realize there are quite a few I already know and have used at one time or another. Yay for me! But then I come across words like "truculent" or "somnambulist" and I begin to wonder, "People actually use these words? Really? Maybe the British use them. Americans wouldn't be caught dead using big words."
In effort to learn some of the lesser known vocabulary of the English language, I have decided to start using them during my normal conversations with the kids. I figure it's never too early for them to brush up on their vocab for the SAT.
Here's a sampling of sentences I plan on implementing for the next couple of days (until after Thursday when I don't have know these words again):
Miles, don't be so abstruse.
Caitlynn often uses grandiloquence language when trying to impress her friends. (Or maybe that's me that does it?)
Dexter the cat is quite indolent lately.
Other words I may drop into conversation:
pusillanimous, salubrious, sepulchral, solecism, trammel, voluble, fetid, gambol, dolor
I wonder if the kids will notice the change in my language or if they'll do what they normally do -- tune me out.
Dear Miles,
I would like to take a moment and publicly apologize (unreservedly, of course) for putting carrots in the chili.
I realize now, 10 months after the incident where I put carrots in a big pot of chili, that you are still holding me responsible for the distraught you incurred while eating this chili. Each time thereafter (including last evening) you ask me while I'm serving you a bowl of chili, "Are there carrots in it?"
I learned my lesson the first time and have not repeated my egregious error since. Much to my surprise, Daddy actually sides with you on this issue. He feels carrots do not belong in chili. Vegetarian chili, ok. Carrots are permitted. Standard beef chili... no carrots. Ok. I got it now. Thanks for clarifying, Joe.
But I would like to explain my reasoning for adding carrots to the chili in the first place. I was trying to do that thing where moms hide or mask vegetables in their kids' food. You and your sister are too smart for this trick and it rarely works. However, I do get Caitlynn to eat leek and potato soup. As long as the vegetables are pureed, she doesn't care (same with fruit). Fine. But you like chunky chili. It's one of your favorite meals. You don't mind if I put onions, garlic, and green peppers in it, so I thought you wouldn't care if I added carrots. Boy was I wrong.
So, I learned a couple things here:
First, you hate carrots. Especially in chili.
Second, I need prior approval from you before adding any vegetable to your food or else we'll be repeating the carrot incident. I can pretty much guess that broccoli in mac and cheese is out of the question, too.
Now I will pay my penance and repeat a 100 times (if we had a chalkboard, I'd write it on the board for the family to see):
I, Mama, will not add carrots to the chili ever again.
Are you satisfied now? Can we put this incident behind us and move on? Good.
