a. looked over at me during snack the other day and asked. “daddy, why is a banana called a banana? why is milk, milk? why is everything, everything? i don’t get it.” a beautifully pure questioning look was on her face. after she saw the look on my face, she knew that she had said something right. i took a moment to make sure that it was indeed albuterol in her nebulizer, shook my head, looked again, and r. started into an excellent 4 year old explanation. for aged answers are the best. i prefer an 8 year oaked explanation myself, to each their own. “a., if i called that glass of milk a “dingy” and you called it “moggy moggy” and h. called it “tinty tin” then none of us would know what the other was talking about. we need to agree on names for things so that we can understand what each of us is talking about.” a. followed that up with “oh” and a large sip of milk.

language. what language we use, how we use it, when we use different types of language, the importance of speaking in a way that the person you are speaking to isn’t put-off by “your” use of language. when you want to put someone off. it’s a skill. one that needs to be taught to you and discovered on your own – equally. when you’re around kids and gwen stefani’s “hollaback girl” comes on (which happens all the time.), do you stop the music? or let the “ohh this my shit” play on. how long do we shield our kids from “socially unacceptable” language. what even is “socially acceptable”? i fear that making words taboo will only increases their weirdness and use of them. words, like actions, need to be taught. like poor choices we make with actions, we make poor choices with words, but if we are left without the ability to make a poor choice we will not gain a skill at an age where consequences are not as serious. calling a 6’6 480 lbs. man/woman a “fatty” at the age of 5, has less drastic consequences then at the age of 15 – when you should “know better”. what is knowing better anyhow. if someone knew better would they really make the horrible choices that some people make. don’t people inherently want to do well? to be liked, respected and successful. as an educator speaking to parents whose children had disabilities, and many times a poor home life (a correlation that i observed in the setting i taught), it was important that i went into every meeting believing that that parent was doing the best that they could raising their child. this is a tough one for some people. i am not saying that people don’t make excuses, lie to get by, or take the easy way. i’m not making excuses for them, but i do think that the previously mentioned behaviors are symptoms to a disease of an under-educated society or a scared society. one where we are taught that if you don’t know it – fake it – because admitting that you are unsure or don’t know something may mean your job, your child ,or worse, that you look “stupid”. the ones “allowed” to ask questions are those that are confident enough with what they already know. not sure i like the way this sounds.

train of thought lost by having to put on barbie’s way-too-tight jeans.

i love language. i like the sounds of words, and, as you can see, i have certain hang ups about writing. i don’t like capitalization or exclamation points. i love commas, though misuse them often and, can’t keep the same tense in a story. some of this is a matter of discipline. most of it, but i write to express ideas. would my ideas be better realized with a “standard” voice – one everyone agrees on, or my own? debatable.

today we went to the “y” to work out and play in the pool. when we went on saturday, r. and i dropped the kids off at the play-room and worked out together. it was great. the kids were happy and we had time alone together. boy, today was a different story. at least for h.. she did not want to stay in the play-room without me. a. was trying to coax her into the room, “come on haze. you can do it. doesn’t this look neat”, but when one of the staff came up to h. to reassure her that she was okay. h. put her hand out and screamed “no. no. stop” in such a way that the woman actually backed up. i can’t say i wasn’t proud of her “get the hell away from me” skills. i then made the crucial error of staying and comforting her. i should have known, from the years they were in daycare, to just leave. i couldn’t. i stuck around for 5 minutes with her “needing me” and then left to the sounds of her crying – though a quieter cry this time. it must have been my comforting – right? it was nice to work out and when i came back a. let me know that h. “only cried for about 3 minutes” thanks a.. we then went to the splash pool together. they have been developing their own inside jokes. pretty neat, but i do feel a bit left out when they look left, wink and start to crack up. probably nothing. right? just some secret sister language.

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