The question of the day is, why have I been writing mundane book reviews when I could be telling more grandchild stories?

This one is again about Joseph.  I wish I could have recorded the moment, but there's no more certain way to break a mood than to bring out a camera.

While Vivienne naps, Joseph takes a rest in which he doesn't need to sleep, but must play quietly by himself for two hours.  This is a lovely, creative period for him and he has no trouble filling the time with activity.  When quiet time is over, especially if Vivienne is still asleep, Janet usually goes in and they enjoy some one-on-one time together.  Joseph particularly enjoys working on the blackboard that was his "gift from Vivienne" when she was born, and that's what they were doing when I walked in on them yesterday.

The room was (no surprise) a mess, and Janet was helping Joseph pick up.  She would write on the blackboard, "Please bring me the sheep"; Joseph would read the sentence, go get the sheep and put it where it belonged, then wait for Janet to change the sentence:  "...the other sheep" or "...the boy and the dog" or "...two hens."  Not a very efficient way of picking up toys, but totally delightful to Joseph—and to Grandma, who never tires of watching this barely-three-year-old blow her socks off.

(All our grandchildren blow my socks off.  This is why I am usually barefoot.)

The next time I came into the room they were writing numbers.  Janet would write, say, 3,725,304 and Joseph would read the number.  (He crowed with delight at 111,111.)  Then it would be Joseph's turn to write.  After a while, the game morphed into Roman numerals.  At one point, Joseph wrote vii, and I explained that that was the lower case version, whereas VII was uppercase.  But when Janet wrote VII, she drew the top and bottom lines all the way across, as I was taught in school.  The game then transitioned into Greek letters, and Joseph wrote an alpha, added lines above and below, and announced it was an upper case alpha.

I did not overtly correct him, but exclaimed over his logical thought processes.  Janet, however, noticed that he was quite aware from my reaction that he had done something "wrong."  He didn't fuss about it (though sometimes he does when corrected), but grew quiet and tentative for a while as they continued writing the Greek alphabet.  No wonder she and Stephan prefer not to correct him, but to let him adjust his own model of the world over time.

After the journey from reading to large numbers to Roman numerals to Greek letters, it was back to cleaning up, then playing with/fighting over the Brio train set with his sister.  Which event is "normal"?  Around here, both of them.

Oh, one more quiet time story.  Joseph had been disobedient and surly over some issue, so Janet told him I would not be able to help him pick up after quiet time.  When cleanup time came, he was distressed, and kept begging, "Count in French!"  (When I'm helping, I count each piece of the train set, or the Legos, or puzzle, as he and Vivienne put them away.  Depending on his mood and mine, I count in English, French, or High German.  We all miss Dad-o, who would count in Dutch for them.)  Finally, I took pity on him, and told him, "Joseph, I can't count in French for you today, because you disobeyed and had a bad attitude.  But, you know, you can count in French."  At which revelation he picked up all the toys, cheerfully counting past 50 in that language.

Posted by sursumcorda on Sunday, August 11, 2013 at 8:09 am | Edit
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Comments

That is astounding.



Posted by Serina on Sunday, August 11, 2013 at 6:35 pm

The number was 1,111,111. And he started writing the "Greek Alphabet" by writing normal upper case A, B and C with lines above and below. I also laughed with delight at his creativity, but when I noticed he was feeling downcast I simply started writing the correct Greek Alphabet with him (I got stuck on gamma, but he wrote it correctly but we got out his Discovery Binder to make sure we got them right.) He perked up right away, which is why I don't thing Grandma noticed his discomfort.

Still, why is it so hard for us to not worry about the mistakes children make that will self-correct soon enough? Why do we always have to correct everybody (including our own mother's blog posts? ;)



Posted by Janet on Monday, August 12, 2013 at 1:51 am

I think so, too, Serina. Some days there's just no point in putting socks on.

Perhaps the difference, Janet, is that you've already been asked to make corrections as necessary. :) The reason I post is equal parts to update family and friends, and to keep records to aid my memory. (Blogging is more fun than keeping a diary.) Maybe friends and family don't care if the number is exactly correct, but for the record I like to have it right.



Posted by SursumCorda on Monday, August 12, 2013 at 4:29 am

At least this baby is a summer baby! Your feet won't get too cold. (:

Thanks for the update!



Posted by joyful on Monday, August 12, 2013 at 7:57 am
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