Randomness

My 1002 students are workshopping their first essay. People are reading aloud, others are reading along, everyone looks pretty involved and interested. Yay. Any day I don't have to do all the talking and the students shoulder the majority of the work is a good day.

It's summer. Hot, humid, ridonkulously buggy summer. I mowed the lawn yesterday and, at one point, stopped and looked up at the sky at what I thought was a flock of buzzards crazily circling above me, waiting to consume my rotten flesh. Nope, turns out it was just mosquitoes - really, really big mosquitoes. Walking outside feels like I'm taking a stroll through the middle of a South American river. Every afternoon (and sometimes the mornings, sometimes the evenings), the sky turns black, lightning starts striking everywhere, wind rips off a few tree branches, and rain comes at us like it's being dumped out of a bucket. Our garden is a weed-choked bog. Our potted flowers are flourishing because they think they live in a rain forest.

This week has been a nice break activity-wise. For the last three or four weeks, the girls have had some kind of camp (or two) going on. Basketball camp, tennis camp, musical theater camp, science camp, etc. I'm always glad to have the girls learning new things and having their horizons broadened, as it were, but holy crap, it was a ton of driving. We criss-crossed this valley like OCD mailmen, dropping off and picking up everywhere we went. This week, blessed stillness. No camps, no real obligations beyond the usual work and church stuff. Consequently, the girls have spent the week lumbering around (shuffling side to side as if their boredom is physically incapacitating them), saying, "So. Bored." I took them to the library Monday, and they checked out their body weight in angsty YA novels about girls whose friends just don't understand or whose parents just don't understand or whose teachers just don't...well, you know.

We've spent a lot of time with other people's kids lately, either babysitting them or having play dates or whatever. What we've learned is that Parker, for all her sassy genius, is kind of behind some other kids in some ways. We watched some kids whose parents are decidedly hands-off. They are the "I need to work so you guys go outside and play until I tell you to come back in. I don't care what you do as long as you don't set anything on fire" kind of parents. So on the one hand, these kids were thrilled that we paid attention to them, played with them, etc.  But on the other hand, these kids poured their own cereal and milk, tied their own shoes, took care of all their own bathroom business without help, etc. because that's what they've had to do.

Suzy and I are kind of overprotective and hovery, I think. Partly, we worry for our kids and want to make sure they're okay. Partly, we just want to make sure stuff gets done right. Parker has adapted to this and not only lets us but expects us to do a lot of things for her that she needs to learn to do for herself. She'll be in five-day-a-week preschool this fall, and there are certain things she's just got to get under control before we can turn her over to her teachers and peers, you know? First item on list? Stop stripping entirely naked in order to pee. Not necessary, Parker. Not necessary at all.

Star Trek Into Darkness came and went without me seeing it in the theater. That was a little disappointing. Man of Steel is still around but is getting such middling reviews, I don't know if I want to take the time and effort. Sounds like a renter for sure. Pacific Rim? Giant robots fighting giant monsters from beneath the surface of the earth? What? Are you kidding me? I might even have to drive somewhere to find an IMAX 3D for that business.

It's almost lunch time. My body will head home but my heart and my head will go over the river to the Dog House. It has been far too long since I've had a Chicago dog (or two) with some hot, crispy fries and a cold, sweet diet Pepsi. That sounds like the greatest thing a human could eat for lunch today. I'm confident nothing would be better.

I am listening to a student read his profile paper to his peers. The idea was for them to interview someone and write a profile that provides an overall, dominant impression of that person. He interviewed his lazy, slacker best friend. He wrote the whole thing like a nature documentary that's trying to track down some rare animal. I just heard the line, "Much like the majestic platypus, the Ryan Johnson doesn't actually do much." Nice. I can tell this kid's going to do well on this paper.

Only seven minutes left in class. Time to check back in with my young charges and get them on their way for tomorrow.