I have a new tag/label for my posts: "Boston Year." On August 1, 2013, we moved into a new home in the Boston area, and we plan to stay for about a year. This is to be a year of adventures - new experiences, new growth. I wanted to capture as much of that as I could for our family. I debated starting a new blog altogether, but decided that the handful of you loyal family and friends who actually read this would probably prefer to skip the hassle of adding a new URL. And I would always have to decide on which blog to post something - not good for a decision-phobic person like me. So instead, you will see the label "Boston Year" for posts related to our relocation here. You can search for that if you like.
The year in Boston will be a sabbatical leave for Jeremy and I, meaning we are not teaching at all this year. Our work will instead be research/scholarship projects dedicated to renewing and refreshing the "life of the mind" for each of us. Seven years ago we had sabbatical leaves for a semester, although we stayed in our own home in town that time, and we both found it incredibly helpful for regaining enthusiasm and a fresh perspective on our teaching. With a career likely to span more than 4 decades at the same institution, I am eager to do whatever I can to stay fresh, so that I can develop 40 years of experience, rather than 1 year of experience, 40 times.
Already, we can say that this sabbatical leave has shaken things up for us. Jeremy began working on his project in May, as soon as spring semester grades were in. He will be working on several projects with a collaborator at MIT, and could do some of it remotely. I took advantage of our job share situation and haven't worked very much since May, in compensation. But I have been busy. I noticed that there is a long gap on this blog, since about mid-May. It seems that our summer has evaporated as all of our energy has poured into moving a family of 6 for one year. Actually, it has taken me nearly a whole year to prepare for a year of relocation.
I started this sabbatical with preparations late last August ( a year ago). Jeremy and I each prepared proposals for our year's activities. We also undertook a small remodeling project, figuring that the 1.5 bath house would rent more easily with 2 full baths (and work out better for us, too, when we returned). When these were approved by the college in November, then I began spending countless hours looking for housing for us, and searching for renters for our own home. We identified tenants first, and then I learned the ins and outs of being a landlord - all the places to notify, register, pay fees, update housing to code, etc. In May, Jeremy and I and Helen drove out to Boston for 5 days to look at the various housing options I had located via the internet and get a lease. All of June involved culling and many trips to Goodwill, and packing - mostly to move our stuff into storage, to make room for tenants. We also had to sort and decide what we would take with us for the year. Since we planned to move with just the minivan and a large car top carrier, we were quite limited in space.
July 1, we moved out of our house and became itinerant. We stayed 10 days with Jeremy's parents, then 5 days visiting friends in MN, then back to my in-laws', then a week on vacation with my dad and his family, then a final 5 days at my in-laws' house. We left MI for the year late in the afternoon of July 31, and arrived at our new home around 8 PM on August 1. And so, it all begins.....
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Archival Updates
There are times when I love to write, but can't access the internet. Or, other times I just prefer to write longhand. At those times, I collect pages of writing and save them, sometimes for a very long time. These are accumulating, and I thought I would use my quiet mornings here in Boston to post some old material. So, over the next few days (or longer, depending on how busy I get), you may see things with dates from long in the past at the top of my post. That is the date I wrote it, while the date of the blog is when I typed and posted it. A little non-sequential joy to drive people like me bonkers. How will you feel about it?
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Driving in Boston
So far, no crashes. And, we have been back to our home for bed every night, so not hopeless lost. I will call that a win, as far as driving in the Boston area goes. I don't think I could have imagined it - I had to see it.
There is no North here. Roads meander. As Uncle Jim H. puts it, "Roads in Boston go wherever the cow path went." As our family has commented many times these past few days...they ought to have had fewer cows. Or at least cows with a better sense of direction.
Signs might help. If you are on a major road, you might get signs to tell you the names of the roads you are crossing (sometimes), but don't expect anyone to waste money putting up a sign to tell you the name of the road you are already on. You ought to know that already, don't you think? Unless, of course, you just changed towns. Which happens frequently here. The towns are small and all run together. Then the road names change. And you might well be driving happily along and then run in to a road with the same name as what you thought you were driving on, except now you are at the intersection. Perhaps space and time fold up differently, like an extra dimension, in the Boston area. There are a lot of science types in the many colleges around here.
Here is a map of Monday's outing, when I tried to take the kids from our home (point A) to swim at the state park (Point B ). This 4-mile route is shown in yellow. I actually followed the red route, which does, in fact, include a complete circle back to home before getting on our way.
The really sad part of this is that we had driven right past the park the day before, on the way to and from church. Still, neither James (age 12) nor I could get the right direction out of our driveway, or recognize the correct direction when we made it back to the right road. This town may finally break my resolve and force me to acquire GPS. But I am not convinced even GPS can help around here. This town may finally break my resolve and force me to acquire GPS. But I am not convinced even GPS can help around here.
There is no North here. Roads meander. As Uncle Jim H. puts it, "Roads in Boston go wherever the cow path went." As our family has commented many times these past few days...they ought to have had fewer cows. Or at least cows with a better sense of direction.
Signs might help. If you are on a major road, you might get signs to tell you the names of the roads you are crossing (sometimes), but don't expect anyone to waste money putting up a sign to tell you the name of the road you are already on. You ought to know that already, don't you think? Unless, of course, you just changed towns. Which happens frequently here. The towns are small and all run together. Then the road names change. And you might well be driving happily along and then run in to a road with the same name as what you thought you were driving on, except now you are at the intersection. Perhaps space and time fold up differently, like an extra dimension, in the Boston area. There are a lot of science types in the many colleges around here.
Here is a map of Monday's outing, when I tried to take the kids from our home (point A) to swim at the state park (Point B ). This 4-mile route is shown in yellow. I actually followed the red route, which does, in fact, include a complete circle back to home before getting on our way.
The really sad part of this is that we had driven right past the park the day before, on the way to and from church. Still, neither James (age 12) nor I could get the right direction out of our driveway, or recognize the correct direction when we made it back to the right road. This town may finally break my resolve and force me to acquire GPS. But I am not convinced even GPS can help around here. This town may finally break my resolve and force me to acquire GPS. But I am not convinced even GPS can help around here.
Moving: the ups and downs
In my limited experience, every move involves both exhilaration and disappointment; both celebration and grieving. We are certainly finding that to be true again this time. So, in no particular order, some of our discoveries for this move - the ups and downs. Not surprisingly, many of them come in sets. And yes, nearly universally, first-world problems.
YAY:
Love the space. We are rattling around a bit in 2700 square feet. It might be hard to squeeze back into our own 1700 square foot home after this.
NAY:
No garbage pick-up? Not so excited about hauling our garbage and recycling to the transfer station. Please, no spills in the back of the minivan.
YAY and NAY:
Where, oh where, do people shop around here? No, I am not looking for designer shoes or an international art gallery. Just groceries. And housewares. And a quick meal on Saturday night. I knew we were going to be more rural here in Lincoln than we had originally expected, but we are only 15 miles out of the center of Boston. Is it really possible that we have to drive more than 20 minutes to find a fast food joint? Or even just a local pub with some food?
Okay, it isn't really that bad. We actually have a sandwich shop (lunch only) and a restaurant (dinners) as well as a grocery store right across the street from our house. The kids love the store. I think they have been every day to buy something - they keep inventing needs. They love being able to do that on their own. But the store is a bit smaller and bit pricier than I had hoped based on a quick perusal back in May. The second try was a Whole Foods recommended by Jamie (our landlord and duplex neighbor). That was 15 minutes away but still too small and way too expensive. It was next to a sit-down Chinese place, a sit-down Italian restaurant, and a Panera's. So, progress.
At church on Sunday, I ended up in the nursery with Helen for half the service and quizzed a chatty woman there about shopping. Have some new places to try in the next few weeks. Here's hoping...but I don't suppose anyone is going to be like Meijer. Maybe this will be the year to try Amazon for all our groceries. Seems odd to be closer to a major city but having more trouble shopping.
YAY and NAY:
What a good way to mark the roads - just point in a direction and head to a town. I am trying to get to something in Wayland? Just follow the signs to Wayland. Don't bother with the names of the streets. Except, I wish someone would bother, just a bit. Like now and then, a street sign to tell me the name of the road I am currently driving on would be reassuring. Particularly since no roads are straight and none keep the same name for more than 3 miles. And, because if I just follow the signs to Wayland, I sometimes go in circles.
YAY and NAY:
Dark at 8:30 pm. Full dark! Kids go to sleep better again. But no more lingering, lovely summer evenings on the deck, in the 10 PM twilight. And WHOA! Why didn't I consider the drawbacks to the lovely skylights in our bedroom? The sun shows up way too early out here on the East coast in the summer.
YAY:
Love the space. We are rattling around a bit in 2700 square feet. It might be hard to squeeze back into our own 1700 square foot home after this.
NAY:
No garbage pick-up? Not so excited about hauling our garbage and recycling to the transfer station. Please, no spills in the back of the minivan.
YAY and NAY:
Where, oh where, do people shop around here? No, I am not looking for designer shoes or an international art gallery. Just groceries. And housewares. And a quick meal on Saturday night. I knew we were going to be more rural here in Lincoln than we had originally expected, but we are only 15 miles out of the center of Boston. Is it really possible that we have to drive more than 20 minutes to find a fast food joint? Or even just a local pub with some food?
Okay, it isn't really that bad. We actually have a sandwich shop (lunch only) and a restaurant (dinners) as well as a grocery store right across the street from our house. The kids love the store. I think they have been every day to buy something - they keep inventing needs. They love being able to do that on their own. But the store is a bit smaller and bit pricier than I had hoped based on a quick perusal back in May. The second try was a Whole Foods recommended by Jamie (our landlord and duplex neighbor). That was 15 minutes away but still too small and way too expensive. It was next to a sit-down Chinese place, a sit-down Italian restaurant, and a Panera's. So, progress.
At church on Sunday, I ended up in the nursery with Helen for half the service and quizzed a chatty woman there about shopping. Have some new places to try in the next few weeks. Here's hoping...but I don't suppose anyone is going to be like Meijer. Maybe this will be the year to try Amazon for all our groceries. Seems odd to be closer to a major city but having more trouble shopping.
YAY and NAY:
What a good way to mark the roads - just point in a direction and head to a town. I am trying to get to something in Wayland? Just follow the signs to Wayland. Don't bother with the names of the streets. Except, I wish someone would bother, just a bit. Like now and then, a street sign to tell me the name of the road I am currently driving on would be reassuring. Particularly since no roads are straight and none keep the same name for more than 3 miles. And, because if I just follow the signs to Wayland, I sometimes go in circles.
YAY and NAY:
Dark at 8:30 pm. Full dark! Kids go to sleep better again. But no more lingering, lovely summer evenings on the deck, in the 10 PM twilight. And WHOA! Why didn't I consider the drawbacks to the lovely skylights in our bedroom? The sun shows up way too early out here on the East coast in the summer.
YAY and NAY:
A 6-burner stove-top is awesome! The professional grade burners and heavy-duty pans in the kitchen are a delight to cook with. But, it is also a bit intimidating. Both of us nearly burned our eyebrows off in the first few days as we learned to manage the turbo-jet burners with an appliance lighter (pilots turned off).
YAY and NAY:
Love the professional-quality, Subzero-brand refrigerator. It is huge and well-laid out. Wish it had been cleaner when we got here, though. That was a lot of territory to cover in washing shelves. And why does this kitchen have absolutely everything, except a microwave? Do I really have to learn new ways to reheat my tea and leftovers?
A 6-burner stove-top is awesome! The professional grade burners and heavy-duty pans in the kitchen are a delight to cook with. But, it is also a bit intimidating. Both of us nearly burned our eyebrows off in the first few days as we learned to manage the turbo-jet burners with an appliance lighter (pilots turned off).
YAY and NAY:
Love the professional-quality, Subzero-brand refrigerator. It is huge and well-laid out. Wish it had been cleaner when we got here, though. That was a lot of territory to cover in washing shelves. And why does this kitchen have absolutely everything, except a microwave? Do I really have to learn new ways to reheat my tea and leftovers?
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Emotional growth and toddlers
I am fairly certain that Helen, age 2, is more mature than I am. In a number of ways, actually.
First, I read this interesting article today about parenting. The author, an early childhood education specialist, suggests doing away with "time outs," claiming they are the fad of the current generation of parents but little better than spanking in most ways. She talks instead about the importance of helping a child to learn to "center." By this she means that a child (and often an adult) need a chance to choose their own acceptable method to release emotions and regain equilibrium before then leading them to find their own solutions to problems. The author also claims that most (all?) problems with children's behavior can be traced to having an unmet need that they don't know how to address, so that our primary parenting goal is not punishment, or even discipline, but teaching - teaching children how to recognize their own needs and to find acceptable ways to get those needs met.
Like most books on child-raising, I don't think she has all the answers for every kid. But I think she has a lot of wisdom. Perhaps it just rings true to me because I think it is a concept that my own mom would have agreed with. From the first days of my parenting, I have heard mom's voice in my head, gently suggesting to me that a misbehaving child is really just a child with an unmet need, and since I am the adult, it is not my job to get angry or frustrated; it is merely my job to find and meet that need. (Cranky kids? Feed them. Fighting kids? Help them take a nap. All well and good, though it does seem to get exponentially more complicated as the children get older.)
Well, in any case, this article struck me today because of what I have been observing in Helen. First, she has always been a pro at meeting her own needs. We sometimes call this trait in a toddler "being independent." She doesn't cry or whine when she is hungry - she just pries open the fridge, pulls over a chair, and climbs up to the shelf with the watermelon. She doesn't sit placidly wondering when she might get to go swimming - she gets her swimming suit out of her dresser, pulls it on (often over her clothing), then stands expectantly by the door, telling everyone who comes within range, "I go swim in pool." When that doesn't lead to the desired result, she changes the story to, "I swim in the tub?"
But today, I think I witnessed the most stunning thing I have ever seen a young child, let alone a toddler, do. We had driven over to the pool to drop John off for swim team practice and pick up Maggie and James after theirs. Thus, she saw the pool, saw the kids in suits, saw the showers, but didn't get to swim. Even though I had explained to her before we went that life would work out this way for her today, I felt my heart breaking as I buckled her back into her car seat. I could watch the reality of the situation dawning on her in real time, rippling across her face. She was not going to get in the pool (a true obsession of hers). She broke into a full cry - quite unusual for her. Not a whining cry, as in "Let me do it! I will make you let me do it." Rather, it was the lusty, soulful cry of a broken heart. Her face crumpled, sobs welled up from the depths of her little body, and tears began to flow.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if I could ever make the world right again, I watched the most amazing thing happen. Helen took in a deep shuddering breath, let it out slowly, and smoothed out her face into sad resignation. The crying began as quickly as it had started. She seemed to have simply accepted that this small part of the universe would never be arranged to her desires, and there was no point in making a scene. She was clearly still sad, but she simply decided to move on. I watched her do this right in front of my eyes - something that many adults have not yet learned. Wow.
In case you were wondering, I would have bought the whole pool for her at that moment, if I could have.
Postscript
An additional observation related to the independent streak in Helen. We have been a bit overrun by ants in the house this spring. She has taken it upon herself to hunt them. When she spies one, she shouts delightedly, "Mom (Dad)! Look! A bug!" If we don't respond quickly enough, she prompts us with the appropriate action. "Get a tissue!" If even that does not earn the quick response that she wants, then she marches off to get a tissue herself. Her bug-squishing body count currently leads the family.
First, I read this interesting article today about parenting. The author, an early childhood education specialist, suggests doing away with "time outs," claiming they are the fad of the current generation of parents but little better than spanking in most ways. She talks instead about the importance of helping a child to learn to "center." By this she means that a child (and often an adult) need a chance to choose their own acceptable method to release emotions and regain equilibrium before then leading them to find their own solutions to problems. The author also claims that most (all?) problems with children's behavior can be traced to having an unmet need that they don't know how to address, so that our primary parenting goal is not punishment, or even discipline, but teaching - teaching children how to recognize their own needs and to find acceptable ways to get those needs met.
Like most books on child-raising, I don't think she has all the answers for every kid. But I think she has a lot of wisdom. Perhaps it just rings true to me because I think it is a concept that my own mom would have agreed with. From the first days of my parenting, I have heard mom's voice in my head, gently suggesting to me that a misbehaving child is really just a child with an unmet need, and since I am the adult, it is not my job to get angry or frustrated; it is merely my job to find and meet that need. (Cranky kids? Feed them. Fighting kids? Help them take a nap. All well and good, though it does seem to get exponentially more complicated as the children get older.)
Well, in any case, this article struck me today because of what I have been observing in Helen. First, she has always been a pro at meeting her own needs. We sometimes call this trait in a toddler "being independent." She doesn't cry or whine when she is hungry - she just pries open the fridge, pulls over a chair, and climbs up to the shelf with the watermelon. She doesn't sit placidly wondering when she might get to go swimming - she gets her swimming suit out of her dresser, pulls it on (often over her clothing), then stands expectantly by the door, telling everyone who comes within range, "I go swim in pool." When that doesn't lead to the desired result, she changes the story to, "I swim in the tub?"
But today, I think I witnessed the most stunning thing I have ever seen a young child, let alone a toddler, do. We had driven over to the pool to drop John off for swim team practice and pick up Maggie and James after theirs. Thus, she saw the pool, saw the kids in suits, saw the showers, but didn't get to swim. Even though I had explained to her before we went that life would work out this way for her today, I felt my heart breaking as I buckled her back into her car seat. I could watch the reality of the situation dawning on her in real time, rippling across her face. She was not going to get in the pool (a true obsession of hers). She broke into a full cry - quite unusual for her. Not a whining cry, as in "Let me do it! I will make you let me do it." Rather, it was the lusty, soulful cry of a broken heart. Her face crumpled, sobs welled up from the depths of her little body, and tears began to flow.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if I could ever make the world right again, I watched the most amazing thing happen. Helen took in a deep shuddering breath, let it out slowly, and smoothed out her face into sad resignation. The crying began as quickly as it had started. She seemed to have simply accepted that this small part of the universe would never be arranged to her desires, and there was no point in making a scene. She was clearly still sad, but she simply decided to move on. I watched her do this right in front of my eyes - something that many adults have not yet learned. Wow.
In case you were wondering, I would have bought the whole pool for her at that moment, if I could have.
Postscript
An additional observation related to the independent streak in Helen. We have been a bit overrun by ants in the house this spring. She has taken it upon herself to hunt them. When she spies one, she shouts delightedly, "Mom (Dad)! Look! A bug!" If we don't respond quickly enough, she prompts us with the appropriate action. "Get a tissue!" If even that does not earn the quick response that she wants, then she marches off to get a tissue herself. Her bug-squishing body count currently leads the family.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Kids: status update
It has been a busy spring, getting ready for our move in June. I haven't had my camera out and I haven't posted to the blog. The kids, of course, haven't stopped growing just because I have been too busy to record it. I have a nursing toddler on my lap right now so a brief chance to update this blog as to what the kids have been up to.
"My do it!" is a standard around here. We have heard the word "I" only once or twice; she definitely thinks of herself as "my." This is usually followed by her dressing herself or putting her own shoes on. She actually doesn't do too badly at these tasks. Sometimes the clothes are backwards or the shoes are on the wrong feet, but she knows how to find the right assortment of things and get them on to head outside (her favorite thing to do).
"Mama, 'ide you!" or "Mama, 'ide me!" (I actually haven't figured out yet the distinction between these requests to nurse, but there seems to be a clear one in her mind.)
She reads all the time, drawing the ire of John, who wants her for a playmate. But, she also can be sweet and generous with her love of reading - it is common for her to ask to read John his bedtime story, and she will read for much longer (and later) than Jeremy or I can often manage or would be willing to do, so John loves this.
She is 8 going on 28, and gets annoyed when she doesn't get all the same privileges of age that James might enjoy. She wants to stay home alone and babysit Helen on her own and all such things. (We still say no.)
He has developed his own interests and entertainments. When our friends with older teen boys visited in March, he caught a "Dr. Who" bug from them and now watches it regularly (the modern version; not the old ones). He loves camping and the outdoors and is excited about the idea of maybe going on a week's campout in Alberta, Canada (summer 2014 ) with the Cadets (a Boy Scout-like church organization).
Helen, age 2.25 years:
I love the way her speech is developing. She can now say anything she wants, but sometimes the grammar makes us laugh. In the same way as Yoda, she has developed her own very self-consistent, but non-standard, grammar."My do it!" is a standard around here. We have heard the word "I" only once or twice; she definitely thinks of herself as "my." This is usually followed by her dressing herself or putting her own shoes on. She actually doesn't do too badly at these tasks. Sometimes the clothes are backwards or the shoes are on the wrong feet, but she knows how to find the right assortment of things and get them on to head outside (her favorite thing to do).
"Mama, 'ide you!" or "Mama, 'ide me!" (I actually haven't figured out yet the distinction between these requests to nurse, but there seems to be a clear one in her mind.)
John, age 5.8 years:
He learned to read! He has been quietly accumulating his "popcorn" words this year in kindergarten. (These are words that "pop up everywhere" so the kids are taught to read them as sight words rather than sound them out.) He has learned his entire kindergarten list now, about 30 words, but he hasn't wanted to try books - he still wants to be read to instead. So it was a fun milestone yesterday when he sat down with Jeremy and read all the way through Dr. Seuss's Go Dog Go.Margaret, age 8.75 years:
She has decided that she will now be known as "Meg." She doesn't remember this much more often than we do, but she grins from ear to ear when I remember to call her Meg, and then for a few moments refuses to answer to Margaret or Maggie.She reads all the time, drawing the ire of John, who wants her for a playmate. But, she also can be sweet and generous with her love of reading - it is common for her to ask to read John his bedtime story, and she will read for much longer (and later) than Jeremy or I can often manage or would be willing to do, so John loves this.
She is 8 going on 28, and gets annoyed when she doesn't get all the same privileges of age that James might enjoy. She wants to stay home alone and babysit Helen on her own and all such things. (We still say no.)
James, age 11.9 years:
He is truly a middle-schooler now. He has grown remarkably this year, both physically (shoe size 10 and still climbing!) and otherwise. He has learned to manage his own school work and schedule this year (with a few blips from time to time). He is very helpful at home - often stepping up to volunteer his assistance with things like watching Helen, cooking dinner, unloading the dishwasher.He has developed his own interests and entertainments. When our friends with older teen boys visited in March, he caught a "Dr. Who" bug from them and now watches it regularly (the modern version; not the old ones). He loves camping and the outdoors and is excited about the idea of maybe going on a week's campout in Alberta, Canada (summer 2014 ) with the Cadets (a Boy Scout-like church organization).
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
One-billion-nine
It was pouring rain as we neared home after traversing the state today. John (age 5) had been a trooper for the 3-hour round-trip, being cheerful, talkative, and (mostly) keeping his hands away from his little sister (who slept most of the trip).
His small voice came from the seat directly behind me, draped with a dreamy, reflective quality. Nothing to warn me of his killer instincts. "Mom, how many raindrops do you think are falling?"
"Umm, I really don't know, John. Do you mean ever, or right now?"
"Right now, and you have to make a guess."
"Oh, okay. Umm, one-billion."
"Wrong!" All traces of dreaminess were gone from his voice, replaced with a mischievious, grinning quality. "It's one-billion-nine. Hello?!"
I was startled to hear such obnoxious, older humor tone in the "Hello?! Are you an idiot?" of a five-year-old. But he was giggling so fiercely at his own joke that I couldn't help but give him instantly.
We spent the rest of the drive discussing numbers. "What is bigger, one-billion-one or one-billion-two? Is anything bigger than one-billion-nine? Well, then what is bigger than one-trillion? How do I count to one-trillion?" At least it kept me awake on a long drive. If only we could all maintain such enthusiasm to learn everything.
His small voice came from the seat directly behind me, draped with a dreamy, reflective quality. Nothing to warn me of his killer instincts. "Mom, how many raindrops do you think are falling?"
"Umm, I really don't know, John. Do you mean ever, or right now?"
"Right now, and you have to make a guess."
"Oh, okay. Umm, one-billion."
"Wrong!" All traces of dreaminess were gone from his voice, replaced with a mischievious, grinning quality. "It's one-billion-nine. Hello?!"
I was startled to hear such obnoxious, older humor tone in the "Hello?! Are you an idiot?" of a five-year-old. But he was giggling so fiercely at his own joke that I couldn't help but give him instantly.
We spent the rest of the drive discussing numbers. "What is bigger, one-billion-one or one-billion-two? Is anything bigger than one-billion-nine? Well, then what is bigger than one-trillion? How do I count to one-trillion?" At least it kept me awake on a long drive. If only we could all maintain such enthusiasm to learn everything.
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