green ABC’s

how fortunate that my css makes titles in green! it saves me the effort, and allows me to use my flaming-logo-red color to say red ABC’s. but i get ahead of myself.

mastery of all things continues! These last few days have been very difficult as work is ridiculously busy and Beckie was on a business trip to Atlanta. i mostly managed to hold it together, spend good time with G, work a lot, and not have a meltdown. 24OP was this upcoming weekend, my bike needs to be tweaked and fixed, i need to test ride it, pack, and finish work stuff. G took it on the chin today with day care, gym day care, and getting blown off once we got home. odd that today when I was paying the least attention she would do the coolest things. or maybe that just comes from spending 3 days alone with her and dialing into those cool things that she does.

we pull up to the gym, and wait for awhile so she can snack on some grapes and graham crackers and milk. and she notices the sign on the gym and goes ABCs ABCs green ABCs. took me a while to figure out what the hell she was talking about, but i said “no red ABCs,” and she went red ABCs red ABCs. and then started singing. she made it to V before forgetting the words, then started humming. i don’t think she wanted me to sing with her; she seemed to be enjoying the challenge of remembering it all by herself. So much to remember!! then she smoothly transitioned into Old MacDonald but this time was asking me for what was on the farm, going “he had a…, he had a….” C’mon daddy what the hell did that old hayseed have?

at the gym we were very insistent about stairs, and about walking them, and about letting me know that she knew that she should respect the stairs.

Each of the last 3 nights we had gone out to the park, and tonight she again thought we should go to the park. And told me to put her shoes on. Then by herself up and got a sweater and started looking for the car keys and saying goodbye, and rallying Kila, and then finally rembering the last thing to do before we leave is give me a hug. So she gave me a hug. Then stood expectantly at the front door. oh if only!!!

Expectations were easily adjusted with the aid of obscene amounts of chinese food. G wanted more fried rice, and we verged on meltdown before she finally was able to get it through my dumb thick head which container she wanted more of. Never again will i think twice cooked beef over chicken fried rice, or doubt that she remembers which container it is in.

she’s really easy to deal with, you just gotta communicate. and an hour later she was hungry again.

i can’t believe how much she is learning, and I again feel that its mostly due to daycare. sometimes it makes me feel really bad that I am so unessential to her daily education. but i can’t say as if I spent more time with her that I would teach her any better. I’d do some stuff with her, then get bored and do my things and make her tag along. And then sometimes I think I would teach her well, but it wouldn’t be letters and numbers and education. Today I was weeding the yard and she was looking for entertainment so i taught her about picking up and putting things away, and raking. She rather enjoyed it, we had dialog, i thanked her, she welcomed me…it was quite full of ettiquette. and we played and we did G-oriented activities and bday presents amidst my activities. She learns with me, its just more tutelage than education.

But no matter the benefits, i’m not so happy about how much regimentation there is already in her tiny life. 2 years old and 5 days a week she is on a schedule. Is it worth the socialization and intelligence? it’s hard to doubt for a moment that it is. Especially when you compare how fragile and spoiled and soft and provincial the kids and parents are, who think they can do it better by themselves at home day-in day-out being doted on too much or ignored too much or fed and taught based on ignorant ideas existing in a vacuum. instead of being professionally supervised? From the little I’ve seen, I’m glad G is not her cousin. but it all seems too post-modern.

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