That Was LSATisfactory.

The LSAT came and it went.  I did not burst into tears nor run screaming from the room so I consider that a resounding success, though the results won’t be published for some time. 

They allow you to take only the contents of a plastic bag into the test, and I felt sufficiently moronic walking around with my plastic purse exposing my mint Oreos. 

But I felt confident because Mary Lou Retton said I’d do great.

The test was as I suspected: a marathon of the mind and it was exhausting.  I am glad to put away the books and table the student cloud – you know that feeling when you are studying and it seems as though there is ALWAYS something you should be doing?  That nagging voice in your head that says “Stop Watching the United States of Tara and Breaking Bad and go study!”  That voice is gone.  Au revoir.

On to a new project.

Inspiration Collection 1: "There is hope, but not for us."

 I've been plowing through literature and art focusing on the tenuous relationship between purpose and life.  I thought it might be amusing to collect in one place the things that are inspiring me (or aiding in my spiraling, depending on perspective). 

A Little Fable  Franz Kafka

"Alas," said the mouse, "the world is growing smaller every day.  At the beginning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept running and running, and I was glad when at last I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long walls have narrowed so quickly that I am in the last chamber already, and there in the corner stands the trap that I must run into."
"You only need to change your direction," said the cat, and ate it up.



This story appeals to me because of the wry humor and desperate situation.  I like how fate arrives either way -- by the trap or by the cat but it's inevitable.  The "too late too late" idea is riveting, as is the idea that the mouse was unnecessarily propelled forward to its ultimate demise.  And I like that in the end it was optional, something we did not assume from the beginning.  Kafka once said "There is hope, but not for us."  Indeed there was hope for the mouse but it was undetected until pointed out by the cat, by which time it is too late.  It's a story of missed opportunity and of consequence, simple and profound. 

This is just for my records so I won't forget.

Key to My Faith

“to see a world in a grain of sand

and heaven in a wildflower

hold infinity in the palm of your hand

and eternity in an hour”

William Blake

I consider myself a fairly reasonable person, but I believe in some pretty outlandish things.  How does a reasonable person reconcile the two?

Here’s how I do it.

I lose my car keys constantly.  Almost daily.  For some reason they are slippery and they sneak away even if I make a concerted effort to put them back in the same place every time.  They have their usual hiding places where they most often lurk, but nonetheless I lose them.  Perhaps it is because leaving usually entails grabbing a million kid-articles on my way out the door, but my lost keys issue has been an ongoing trip up since I became a licensed driver.  I don’t often lose other things – I can keep track of cell phones for years and any number of random things.  It’s just the keys.  And nothing can quite stop you in your tracks more literally than losing your keys.

My unicorn keys.  If lost please return.

Here’s the seemingly unreasonable part.

Whenever I lose my keys I say a little prayer to God/Heavenly Father/Allah/Jah/the higher power.  Yeah, that’s right.  I take my tiny little stupid annoying problem to the MOST POWERFUL BEING IN THE UNIVERSE and I ask Him to help me find my keys.

William Blake’s The Ancient of Days

And then a vague image comes into my head, one of two sorts.  The first type is definite: look on the changing table.  The second type is vague: quit looking, move on, YOU won’t find them because YOU didn’t lose them.  For the first, I find them in the exact place that came to my mind.  For the second, it means that my kids moved them and that they’ll turn up soon through the help of another. 

And then, without fail, I find my keys.

Every single time I have lost my keys I have prayed to find them like a superstitious twerp.  Dumb old Nor with her lame lost keys appealing to the Supreme Creator of all Galaxies.  I feel like a moron doing it because IT MAKES NO SENSE.  Losing keys is a uniquely human foible.  I or another human misplaced the keys.  Why would I go outside my own sphere of definite knowledge to fix annoying minutia?

Because it works.  Every single time.

This is my particle. It isn’t much, but I can say with confidence that it is the tender and amusing mercy He has always given to me – a kind of inside joke between me and my creator. I always giggle a little bit when I say that silly prayer, but it has become foundational for my faith.

But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than a desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words.   -- Book of Mormon, Alma section 32 verse 27

My deduction is as follows:  God knows me.  He knows that when I am lost and struggling, when I am alone and jaded, when I’m angry and disenfranchised by a religion that doesn’t seem to fit me and my life, when my back is turned and my ears are plugged that I will invariably lose my keys.  And then I will pray.  And He will help me find them.

So when I am looking forward without hope, when my heart is filled with doubt, when I look at my circumstances and feel frustration and want to kick somebody, when I think that my heartfelt prayers are just bouncing off the ceiling I remember that God always, always answers this tiny prayer for me.  Maybe it’s His way of saying I Am.  I exist.  I know you.

“Nor, your keys are over there.”

And because He has answered this little prayer time and time again, I have faith He can answer my most far-fetched deepest longings: to have an eternal family for my children as soon as possible.

It’s not very reasonable to believe that a higher power would be concerned with my little things and most of the time it seems like He isn’t.  But because He has in this one area I combine my reason with faith both in finding my keys and in making huge decisions in my life.  God knows me.  Everything is going to be fine. 

Hey Marcus B. Nash, good job your “By Faith All Things are Fulfilled” talk.  It was inspiring and well delivered.  Thanks for writing it just for me.

Not Raising Dummies

We’re in the car a lot, like most families are.  We have the ubiquitous DVD player, but I often feel guilty that the kids are exposed to that type of media so frequently and that it has no educational value for the most part (the exception being the Leap Frog Videos that have taught my kids their letter sounds and numbers, go buy those.)

What DOES makes kids smart is listening to stories being read to them.  Books on tape.  Reading to kids accesses:

1. More logical thinking skills. Another illustration of the importance of reading to children is their ability to grasp abstract concepts, apply logic in various scenarios, recognize cause and effect, and utilize good judgment. As your toddler or preschooler begins to relate the scenarios in books to what’s happening in his own world, he’ll become more excited about the stories you share.
2. Enhanced concentration and discipline. Toddlers may initially squirm and become distracted during story time, but eventually they’ll learn to stay put for the duration of the book. Along with reading comprehension comes a stronger self-discipline, longer attention span, and better memory retention, all of which will serve your child well when she enters school.

Well if you’re like me the time you have scheduled to read to your kids is right before bed when everybody is tired and I am grumpy.  I am also so tired of all the books we have. 

I’ve found a few solutions that work for me and my kids and your kids if they’re in my car.  The Mormon Channel App is free and has every Friend magazine read aloud with new ones available every month.  But that app is kinda finicky and hard to be sure the kids are going to engage.  If I’m going to put on a story for them I want to make sure it’s going to catch their attention quickly.

I’ve switched to searching on YouTube which has an endless supply of children’s books read aloud and songs.  The books are usually 5-8 mins long.  My kids LOVE Bill Harley.   He may be old news to some moms but we just discovered him this year and his stories are so beloved by my minions that Mimi is being a Skunk for Halloween, with pride.

 

After the stories I ask them basic comprehension questions about the beginning middle and end, why the author wrote the story, what advice they’d give the characters, and other very specific questions that demonstrate their retention and synthesis. 

Nearly every teacher is taught Bloom’s Taxonomy before they’re put in the classroom.  It basically means that people learn and understand in levels/stages starting at the bottom of the pyramid.  If you’re a parent intent on developing critical thinking skills in your kid you should know and apply this:

Here’s how you apply the Taxonomy.  Ask questions about the stories the kids like by using the words on the right:

 

So next time you’re in the car click through some of these and feel proud of yourself for enhancing your child’s logical thinking skills and concentration!   

Here are our family favorites.  Click, plug in and listen!

Bill Harley “You’re Not the Boss of Me”

This is a good one for Fairy Tales Classics:

I usually search for classic nursery rhymes and tales because this is the literature of childhood.  Your kid needs to know nursery rhymes and fairy tales (beyond Disney, beyond the cheap Barbie movies we all own from Target) because they are a major literary source and reference useful for the rest of their lives.  Part of our cultural parlance is heavily based on stories your kids should be learning that you and I often take for granted.  Newspapers refer to “Humpty Dumpty Economics” and “Crying Wolf” and even old Eliot Spitzer was linked with the Emporer’s New Clothing.  Stock markets claim the “Sky is Falling.”  

Peter Rabbit.  All of those Beatrix Potter books are SO LONG.

My other favorite choices are those books that have too much damn writing for me to sit for 25 minutes reading one stinking book.  Oh, don’t tell me I’m the only one who avoids the Berenstein freaking Bears some nights. 

And, of course, you can always find primary songs. 

Oh, and if you’re reading more advanced things, I’ve found the Wizard of Oz read aloud on there and Harry Potter.  I think this girl is pretty good!

“Read” to those kids.  It makes them smarter.  From one lazy tired mother to another.  XXOXOX

Thinkin' About It, What Say You?

Everything in the Whole Wide World

We woke up with no plans on a Saturday.  Just me and my minions with a world of possibilities.  I asked Jude what he wanted to do today and he said “Buy nunchucks.”  I asked Silas and he said “Choo choo.”  I asked Mimi and she said “Hello Kitty.”

And mama said, “Yes, yes, and yes.”

Stop one: BART.

Although they’ve been on trains before this time they were just the right age to get some of the concepts down like what trains go where, how the map works, and the under the bay tunnel. Jude and Silas were particularly concerned about that. “No wawa.”

  

Yellow line paranoia.  Or the yellow line that give me heart palpitations.

The most exciting part of the BART train was the ticket situation.  I think Jude and Silas are free so I taught Mimi how to use the ticket, hold Jude’s hand and bolt through before the gate closed on them.  It was hilarious.

I adore this picture.  My three looking over the horizon in wonder.

We took BART right into the Powell Station which dumps you out into the fabulous food court at the bottom of the Westfield Mall.  And right around the corner is Mimi’s dream store.

Mimi, being overwhelmed by the merchandise.

Then we went outside and took a walk.  I am very carefully training my kids how to walk in urban areas.  I am militant.  I have a very rational fear of them bolting into traffic. 

Met some monkeys on the way.

We walked down Market a block then up Stockton then down Campton to Grant and there was the Dragon Gate.  To my kids this was like the entrance way to Disneyland. 

 

All the people who are happy to be a family, every single day of the year, no exceptions.

In we went to merchandising central.  Thankfully it was all cheap.  The lady was really sweet (an excellent saleswoman) and showed us not only what the kids wanted but a better version than they had imagined.  Mimi wanted a purse but left with a dress and shoes.  Jude wanted nunchucks and Si a sword, they left with a kit of 6 ninja weapons each. 

We trekked down a few blocks and found a walk-in-order-at-the-counter restaurant (my favorite kind with kids).  The food was good, there was plenty of seating and a decent bathroom.  All goals accomplished.

It’s interesting walking around with children because they notice and engage with the things I take for granted.  If there’s a street performer they want to stand right in front of them and listen.  There was a fairly impressive quartet playing odd Chinese instruments and I had to pull my kids away from them to get where we were going. 

Next up – our favorite SF park.  Located at Grant and Clay, this park is filled with old Chinese people playing their tile games and hanging out.  It’s a cultural experience and I almost never hear English spoken when we’re there.  The park is clean and feels safe.  Everybody smiles at us and says hello. 

Today was special because it was the Chinese Autumn Moon Festival so there was a free show with pretty dancers in elaborate costumes.

My ninja boys staged a battle on the green.  See the Chinese Gaming ladies behind them?

Afterwards I had another mini-adventure planned for the kids: hailing a taxi.  I taught them where to stand and what to look for and how to wave one down.  Mimi caught the first one she saw and was beside herself with joy.  They thought they were in pig heaven all piling in the back of the taxi for the short ride back to BART.

The train was empty so they had a ball using their new weapons and freaking me out by trying to lay down on the yucky seats or sneakily stealing a lick of the window (Si. Gross.)

Then home for late naps.  Yippee! 

Afterward dinner and housecleaning, in which they earned some ice cream.  Off to get gelato and play by the fountain near H&M.  Guess who fell in.

Evening meditation on the way home to prove to me that they were not too rowdy and deserved ice cream.

Then home for bed.

Goodnight, Spidey.  (The mask came off before he slept, don’t worry.  But he is snuggling his swords.)

I am so thankful for days like these.  Adventures are what Cr@vens do best and my kids are getting more portable.  I don’t have to lug too much stuff around and they can walk a reasonable distance.  While it is difficult taking them somewhere other than the park down the street it is worth it for the memories and familiarity and exposure to lifestyles other than their own.  There was only one really hard part: when the first star came out and the kids wanted to make a wish.  Mimi wished that her dada would come live with us and go on our adventures.  As good as our day was she still felt like there was someone missing and that breaks my heart.  But Jude wished for “Everything in the whole wide world.”  While I cannot make other people to fulfill Mimi’s heart’s desire, I certainly am working on Jude’s: doing my best to give my children everything in the whole wide world.

It Looms

There comes a time in every English Major’s  life when she seriously considers the self-flagellation that is Law School.  And pre-that, the LSAT.  The Admission’s test for Law School.

I do not know if I want to pursue this course of education  -- I’ve always had on my goals list a Doctorate Degree though not necessarily a Juris Doctorate Degree.  But it tempts me.  It sits there like a dragon to be tackled.  A seductive challenge.  A Law degree makes me lick my chops because I tend to get myself into jams and hubbub so I’d like to have the tools to take my fate into my own hands.  Lawyers help people solve problems.  I think I could dig that.

Law has always been on my radar.  I’d like to say it’s because of my Dad (he’s a Super Lawyer, which is a real thing but sans cape) but I suspect it may have had it’s genesis in the Town Meeting in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.  Exhibit B. Me without my bike!

It’s not just my dad.  Dx is a Family Law and Small Business Attny, my little brother is finishing his JD this year.  I know what I’m potentially getting myself into.  I don’t know when is the right time for more school, but now’s a good time for me to start what looks to be a grueling process. 

I may, already, be in over my head.

The LSAT is in October and I’m taking it to open (or close, depending on my score) the option of Law School.  I’m taking a class, but the LSAT material is I think designed to be a great equalizer of intelligence.  It is damn near impossible.  Here, I show you:

Go ahead, give it a try.  And PS, you have exactly one minute and thirty seconds per question.

Think you so smart?  Take the LSAT and get cut right back down to size.

This concerns me, greatly.  How, exactly, am I supposed to maintain my inflated intelligence ego if I tank on this? 

It’s a disaster.  I’m not woman enough for this.  I don’t need this in my life.  I’m sufficiently educated.  I have two jobs (three if you include full-time parenting). 

But I can’t stop going back to my books because I’m invigorated by the challenge.  I can’t wait to sink my teeth in and give it a whirl.  It’s like education gambling.  Some people run marathons and set goals for their body, I’m setting this goal for my mind.  It’s definitely a marathon of a test clocking in at around 2 1/2 hours.

Who knows if it will result in law school?  One race to run at a time.

Jude the Tropical Paradise

Jude’s four.

 

Four to me means feelings.  Something about being four means that you have to feel things passionately.  Would that I could be as firm in my convictions and opinions as a four year old.

It’s highly entertaining to me to watching him change on a dime emotionally from rage to delight.  I don’t provoke him, for sure.  That would be foolish.  But Jude is a bit impatient with his dramatic feelings at this time in his life.

 

Example:  “Jude, we need to go get some things at the store.”

“Nooooo!   I am playing toys!!  I don’t want to go!!  I hate the store!”  Thrashes about, frowns and twists his body in rage.

“Jude, it’s Target.”

“Oh, I yike Target!!”  Jumps for joy and starts chattering away.

“Jude, can you please go get your shoes on?”

“Nooo!  I don’t want to wear shoes!!  I don’t want to get them.”  Throws himself onto the floor.

“Why don’t you wear your flip flops?”

“Ok!”  Runs off to get them.

He’s high drama.  And he’s high fun.  He’s intense.  And he’s exciting.  He’s impassioned.  And he’s mercurial.  He’s my adorable tropical island with the smoothest skin you ever did see.

Thankfully, I can deal with this.  I don’t cave to feelings, but with Jude I don’t have to because they change so quickly.  He’s like a day in Hawaii.  Beautiful with occasional rain for variety.  These are not the hour long battle of wills, they’re just fracas.  He’s emoting.  And usually he’s a pretty happy enthusiastic guy.  I feel flattered that he tries to save all his storminess just for me because he knows I love him come rain or shine.

  To be fair, Jude puts up with a lot.  He’s the middle kid and gets to interact with Ms. Personality and Silas the two-year-old monster boy.

But Jude knows the hierarchy.  He doesn’t put up with crap.

Mimi has a clan of little girl friends she plays with frequently. Jude is always included, but he sometimes finds the girly stuff a bit taxing.  

So I have a special place in my heart for my Middle.  The new mantra around here is Middle Comes First.  And Hurricane Jude is definitely getting his due share of attention and privileges.

Jude got the RC Ferrari, Silas got the little Fisher Price car.  Life is unfair and Jude likes it.

   

He’s my cubby.  I live for the evening he sneaks out to chat with me once the other kids are asleep.  We love each other.