The Dragin

Time to test your reading skills.  Xander wrote me a story that he wanted to share with everyone on the blog.  See if you can decipher the letter sounds of a 1st grader that balancing both English and Spanish reading and writing...

Uan da a boy went tu a casl he went in tu the casl and plad in the casl intil a dragin cam and sed com tu mi lar.  The boy was scerd but he nu he had tu du it so he went tu the dragins lar.  The dragin had lots of moni.  He cowntid all of the moni.  The dragin had 600 dolrs.  He thro some on hiz hed it was lic a showr of moni!

-- By Alexander Carl Banschbach

Translation:

One day a boy went to a castle.  He went in to the castle and played in the castle until a dragon came and said "Come to my lair."  The boy was scared but he knew he had to do it so he went to the dragon's lair.  The dragon had lots of money.  he counted all of the money.  The dragon had 600 dollars.  The threw some on his head.  It was like a shower of money!

A Couple of Shorts

It's too late to be doing this, but if I don't write this story down, I am going to be laying in bed and staring into the dark. (There is another one I wanted to record as well, but it has already slipped my mind.)


King Solomon Retold Banschbach Play Style:


Roles-
Xander..... Mother One                        Eva....... Mother Two         The Hopper Ball....... Baby                  Me ...... The King


Xander      No Eva! I want the ball.
Eva           Give it to me. I had it first. It's mine. (Growl menacingly
                          (through out)
Xander      Eva! (Takes the ball and whips it out of the room)
Eva           (Screams, gut wrenching disappointment)
Me            That's enough. Bring me the ball and tell me what is going
                          on. (In a just and fair voice.)


The sound of two sets of bodies wrestling comes to a sudden halt. There is a slight pause which is quickly replaced by two sets of feet running to be first in sharing the story. Fast forward through a dramatization of the ball being pulled ruthlessly from person to person. The King, me, raises her hand as a gesture to stop. She speaks with calm authority.


Me             I could just put the ball away so no one can play with it.
Xander      Okay. That's fine. (A smile plays on his face)
Eva            No! Don't do it! We can share!
Me             Eva, you can have the baby. Xander, leave her alone.
Eva            Yeah! (Arm pump of victory explodes into the air)
Xander      What!?! Why does Eva get it?


The scene becomes wavy as it frequently does in a dream sequence, flashback, or time/ space travel in most 80's and 90's movies. This effect predates films like The Matrix and is a head nod to the early special effects geniuses. The story of King Solomon, the Two Mothers, and the Infant is retold, casting each child into their respective roles.


Eva               They didn't cut the baby in half, right? (More
                             victorious arm pumps and happy noises)
Xander         Why did the mom and dad kill the other baby? How
                             would you smoosh a baby? Why couldn't the
                             first baby breathe if the mom was on top of it?
                             The first baby is dead right? How would you
                             do that again? Can you show me how?


The scene fades as the questions continue to tumble from the young Xander's lips. Eva is doing a happy dance around the ball she has won. I am rubbing my head, cursing myself for sharing even this iota of my wisdom.

Disgusting Digestion

Xander loves everything in life, except many varieties of food. But the focus should be on the things he loves. Soccer, karate, anime cartoons, science, etc. For his sixth birthday, we capitalized on the fact that he liked hands on science projects. One of the kits he received was called Disgusting Science. We've only done a couple of the activities, but the name says it all. Disgusting!


The kids have been asking to do a disgusting science experiment for a couple of weeks. I kept putting them off, but finally gave in last night. We flipped through the few reaming experiments and decided we would look at digestion. Taking the stomach pink colored balloon (who knew there was such a color?) we added an ingredient to make a lining: vegetable oil. Then, we tore up a piece of wheat bread and put tiny bites into the esophagus (the neck of the balloon). Once we had the food in the stomach, we added stomach acid, but only after smelling it and comparing it to the smell of vomit. Such a lovely disgusting thought, isn't it?


Food in, stomach acid (in this case vinegar) added, we closed off the top of the stomach and began to mush it up. While the kids mushed, we talked about how the stomach is a big muscle. Food mushed so it felt a bit like wet bread, we stretched the balloon to imitate the workings of an intestine. Hand over hand, hand over hand, we used the muscles in our balloon intestine to move the food slowly through to the exit. (Having turned the balloon to face down, we suddenly had the right end.)


This is what the kids were waiting for. The intestines released some 'poop' onto the green plate potty. Plop! It fell and was followed by two smaller pieces. I would have shared a picture, but in Jeff's own words, "I was too mesmerized by the process. I didn't take any pictures."


Now all the kids want to talk about at the table is how every bite they eat makes more poop. Eva, the one I was hoping this little experiment would encourage the most, said she liked pushing the poop out, but had no desire to do it if it wasn't in a balloon. It was still worth a try! Just think how much more kids would know about digestion if science was taught more like this at an early age. My family was certainly mesmerized!

Transformation Part 2

I never told you guys the kids' reaction when they saw their new rooms! Before I do that, I have to tell you how we (mostly I) elicited promises for specific behavior in exchange for the keys. That sounds like blackmail you say? It is.


Anyway, Jeff really wanted to be present when the kids first saw their rooms. After all the hard work he put into creating the spaces, I felt that was appropriate. The only problem was that I was picking them up at lunch time and Jeff wouldn't be home until after soccer. That was a 3and a half hour period that I had to keep them out of their rooms. Certainly, you would agree that it would not be an easy task.


I thought about it and came up with a plan. I would tell them that Daddy and I had spent an enormous amount of time in their rooms. (That is true!) So much time in fact, that we were never able to get the rest of our house cleaned. (Also true!) Because of that ordeal, we decided to lock the doors until we could all sit down and talk about the expectations of keeping the rooms clean.


They came home and ran to the playroom. Before I could get into the house, I could hear Xander yelling, "Mom, the playroom door is locked!" Eva chimed in, but didn't seem nearly as concerned as Xander. Once actually in the house, I asked them to sit down and told the story. "Daddy and I spent lots of time.... Doors will remain locked until..... Future expectations." Xander was bummed, but brightened right away when I said they could each pick out 3 toys from the pile in the basement.


They played merrily for a little while. Then Xander came back upstairs claiming he had to go to the bathroom. I don't think he ever made it to the bathroom, but I did hear the doors of the old playroom and bedroom being tested. He seemed to know something was up. "Why can't I just go in and see how clean the rooms are? I just want to know how they look now!"


It was a long 3 hours before we headed out to soccer. Part of that time, I typed up two lists of expectations for the kids. I thought I would share them with Jeff to get his opinion. He was going to meet us at soccer. But that is not what ended up happening. He thought he was suppose to go home to get more work done on the rooms. I tried calling him a few times, but he never answered. So I went on with the reading and signing of the contracts.


Each child read their own contract and then explained to me what they meant. After signing and dating them, I packed them away and told them they could give them to daddy. If he thought it was good enough, they could have their keys. Jeff, of course, thought the signed contracts were good enough and that we could skip the conversation. Xander and Eva ran to the old playroom and barged in. Xander was happy and Eva couldn't wait. She went in her room before either Jeff or I could stop her. She returned with a huge smile on her face.


I think it is safe to say they are both very happy. Each morning, our day starts with the sound of the gong and the calling together of karate class. This also marks odd times through out the day. Xander has said, "I love my new room!" Eva keeps hugging and kissing me and saying, "I love you mom! I have the prettiest room in the whole house!" Meanwhile, the contracts hang on the refrigerator, just as a reminder should the case arise. Surprisingly  I've had no additional need for them.

Transformation

I've just spent the last hour and a half writing about how redoing the kids rooms went. It was boring with barely an ounce of humor in it. So, I've tossed it all in the virtual trash in favor of starting over. I doubt this will be anymore entertaining, but at least it will be significantly shorter.


Day 1: We didn't make it nearly as far as we had expected. There weren't any serious mishaps, we just didn't get started as early as we had anticipated. I started clearing out the playroom at about 6pm that evening and finished just as Jeff returned from taking the kids to meet Granddad in Rockford. We finally put the paint rollers down and climbed into bed around 2am. The end result of the day was a cleared out playroom with two coats of primer and one cleared out shared bedroom with a coat of primer.


Day 2: Oh my goodness! What a day. We worked long and hard (once we finally got out of bed), but it didn't seem to matter how much effort we put into it. It seemed something was constantly going wrong. I shed tears and cuss words as my sewing machine opted not to cooperate. Jeff cut his hand on a few staples pulling out the carpet. The flooring took much longer than expected to get in.Neither of us noticed it had started to rain. It wouldn't have been too big a deal except we had a lot of supplies still sitting outside on the trailer and it takes paint longer to dry.  By the end of the day, 2am, Xander's room was painted and Eva's floor was finally in.


Day 3: My sewing machine decided it had tortured me enough the night before. What a relief! I could get Xander's flooring done. Of course, that was one of the few things that went perfectly smoothly. In an hour, I was able to finish the projects I had tried for several hours to get done the day before. At least we each accomplished something before we had to go to our other commitments. (Women's retreat for me and the company picnic for Jeff.) When we returned, we had a few more mishaps. The border wasn't a border, but wallpaper so we had to modify it in order to make it work. The canopy would not hang level, making it impossible to get the correct measurement for the tulle.I ended up with a third degree burn on my knuckle. (Skin flaked off, blistered the layer under it which popped, and exposed a bright red and raw third layer of skin.) Still, Eva's room was completed except for hanging up her tutus and two small pictures. I ran out of ribbon and the stores were closed. It was another 2am bedtime with both of us needing to work.


Xander's room still remains unfinished. We hope to get it done this weekend. There isn't much left to do. It's all stuff Jeff needs to do unfortunately. Baseboards and some wood detailing on the walls. A few hooks to hang things on. That's it! I just feel bad because those missing items would make Xander's room look so much better if they were in place.

Tough Question

I almost spit my food out. I managed to keep it in my mouth, but practically choked on it as it moved between my tightened throat muscles. Alarmed, I raised my eyes to search for Jeff's. He was also in a mild panic. I took a long drink of my soda.


"I don't understand what you are asking. Could you try asking it again?"


Xander put down his chicken sandwich and very calmly and seriously asked his question again. "How does the baby get inside the mom?"


I kept drinking my soda even though it was empty. I looked back across the table at Jeff with a nervous smile. Help! I wanted to say. Putting down the paper cup, I looked at Xander. "Do you remember what the book said? You take an egg from the mom and the sperm from the dad. When they mix together, it makes a baby."


I was well aware that the answer I gave him was not what he wanted to know. He already knew the answer I gave him AND the question that lead him to that explanation in the first place.


He didn't hesitate. "No mom. I know that. I want to know.... Okay, so a mom and dad decide they want a baby but not right away and so they don't have a baby. But then, later on, they decide they want to have a baby so they make one. How do they get the baby there, behind the belly button?"


It didn't work. My avoidance tactic only meant that he clarified the question to a point that I couldn't avoid it for the next round. I looked at Jeff again. "You could help me out here."


"We'll talk about this after we are done eating, okay buddy?" Xander agreed. I could have shot daggers at Jeff. Later would translate into right after dinner. That would mean Xander, Eva, and I in the truck. Jeff had met us after work and would be taking the Big Bad Motor Scooter home. At least he bought me some time to think about it.


Thankfully, Xander didn't ask me again. He was pretty distracted by his new crown. Knowing him, I have about 24 hours to come up with an appropriate answer. I don't even know where to begin. As it stands now, I am thinking a trip to the library is in order. (Thanks to the friend who was able to recommend a book written for 7 year olds!)

Memory Lane

Some people say I am nesting. I find the idea interesting. I have certainly been 'spring cleaning' areas a lot more than usual. But, I am not pregnant. Nor do I plan to be.

This morning, I as sorting through a garbage bag that has been sitting in the laundry room for at last 4 years. Most likely going on 7. There were a handful of 0-3month baby clothes in it. A pillow, a nuk strap, Xander's first swimsuit and flotation suit, cards from his baptism, a hat, and a pair of slippers. The best was a small stack of index cards from his baby shower. I smiled reading through each of them. I thought I would share the best ones with you:

"Xander,

I am your mommy's best Aunt Sue and I am here to tell you that when you are around 18 months old ask your mommy for a big apple that rattles. One day your mommy got mad at me when she was about 18months old (I was babysitting her) and took the apple and hit her best Aunt Sue in the head. It's pay back time!

Love,

Aunt Sue"

"Xander,

Your mom is my niece which makes you my great nephew. Your mom is my first niece. I was in 6th grade when she was born. Wow! I'm 43 now. I remember your mom always sucked her first finger until it was sore. I think you look like your dad.

Love You,

Aunt Robin"

"Hi Jeff, Heather and "Z",

Congratulations on becoming a beautiful family. My name is Aunt Kathy and I am so proud of you. Growing up Heather always seemed very independent and would choose carrot sticks over candy. I hope you grow up to be as independent as your mom.

Love,

Aunt Kathy"

"Welcome Alex!

I am so excited to meet you!! You are a beautiful little boy and look an awful lot like your dad right now. I am looking forward to watching you grow. You have very loving parents that are very proud of you and I'm sure I will be seeing many pictures.

Love,

Aunt Teresa"

"Hi Alex,

It's Aunt Rose. Your cousin Drake thought that Santa brought you the night you were born. Your mother always told me that I was brought by gypsies. I love you. Be good for your parents!

Love,

Aunt Rose"

"Baby time!!

Heather (your mom) used to call me an amoeba because I didn't know what is was."

No signature, but I still know who wrote the card. Do you know what an amoeba is now?

I think this is pretty telling about me. It's funny to see how many of these things are still true. (Hint: I don't suck on my finger anymore and haven't hit anyone in the head with a rattle in at least a two years now.)