Word Problems

Those two words always sent a shiver down my neck when it came to testing. I saw word problems as the trick of all trick questions. There were always loop holes to get caught up on (why can't I just see things as clear black and white?!), or there was extra info to throw you off the trail, and you always had to include some sort of description word at the end. The answer couldn't just be 8, it HAD to be 8 inches or whatever else it was measuring. It always felt like a let-down to get the computations right but then not get credit for leaving off the word. Ah, the anxiety of education.

Last Friday Sawyer participated with some kids from his school in a math contest. What a fine group of mathletes! They practiced for several weeks after school and during recess. They were excited and ready. But then as the instructions were being given, the administrator talked about all those gray areas that always gave me fits. "Fractions must be reduced. If it asks for seconds, make sure you don't answer in minutes." I commented to the advisor that seemed kind of intense (MY issues coming to the surface) and she calmly replied, "They are ready." OK, let the math begin.

Later in the college bowl section (a team of 4 buzzing in fast), Sawyer answered a couple incorrectly and began to shut down right in front of us. It was so sad. I KNEW I wasn't the only kid around who gets anxious with word problems. How nice to know I passed it along to my offspring.

No need to worry about Sawyer, the school won blue ribbons and he hardly remembers the anxiety (nice selectivity.) But we have been thinking of life in word problems since then.

Here's a fine example:

Q. Avy, Sam and Toril spent 2 hours at the Oregon Food Bank Thursday evening. They scooped oatmeal from a huge bin into smaller bags and put them into boxes for distribution. Each box holds 10 bags of oatmeal, 10 recipe cards and newspaper (on the top and bottom for protection.) If together, they filled 10 boxes of food, how many bags of oatmeal are ready for others to eat?

A. Enough to help my daughter want to return every week and help others.

Some people may see math/life black and white, but I LOVE the GRAY! Thanks for a wonderful experience Sam and Toril!

Sad News

Slade, as a husband, has certain duties in our relationship. Let's see. He takes out the garbage. He makes breakfast (I do this at times too, but this year he is the b-fast czar.) He does the yard work (he chooses the "natural" plan.) And he MUST, above all else, keep me informed and well-filtered on the NFL. Over the years, I have learned to love the game! And, after many years, there are certain points of the game that I actually understand. But that learning curve is actually shared with two other men, my favorite commentators.

So, this morning I received an fwd article from Slade. Usually I receive these from September through February. I was surprised and then very saddened when I clicked on the link:

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/peter_king/04/16/madden/index.html

Does Madden really HAVE to retire? I feel deserted. My learning curve will not be the same. Who can they hire as a replacement that is ego-free and shares interesting and insightful info? Happy retirement, John.

Working from Home

I very much enjoy working from home these days. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED my studio space--it was so very ME. But my home is too, just the laundry and dishes and other things are up front and center, so there are no false allusions anymore. :)

Yesterday while I work I took a peek out the window and a little blue caught my eye. Looking closer I realized it was a blue bird and thought to myself, "How wonderful to be up in the trees and see things at eye level!" But then I noticed a camouflaged squirrel, just inches away. Neither animal freaked the other or caused panic. So I took a picture to show the kids later what I saw:

Then a few hours went by and the kids came home from school. I glanced out the window and that squirrel was still there. I wondered if perhaps he was ill and choosing to die up in the tree (then I thought, "How gross living up in the tree and seeing more of the circle of life than I bargained.") I called the kids up to see what their diagnostics thoughts were.

Kids being kids, they decided they needed to throw things at it to see if he would move. Avy suggested a rock. But we didn't need to knock the poor thing off the branch. Then she offered a piece of paper. That certainly would not have enough umpf to make it 10 feet. So she ran off and came back with a glove. Better, but not quite. Finally, Kennah threw her hacky sack. But missed it by a mile. So off she went to retrieve her ball.

Then Spock came into the room curious and ready to get in on the action. The silly dog tried jumping onto the window sill to get a better view. Luckily he usually jumps a few times to build up momentum for the final jump. Had he gotten to that point, he would have flown out the window. Although he is more work than I want, I am not ready for him to plunge to his death in front of my children.

Ultimately, we figured the little squirrel had found a fabulous sun spot and was enjoying the warmth of the day! Look at him living the easy life, perfectly perched out of reach of hacky sacks, kids and one loco dog.

The Jelly Bean Taste Test

I didn't watch a lot of TV growing up as a kid. But there are some ads, that to this day, still live in a corner of my mind. I can sing the Toys 'R Us song (Christmas specials made the "OK to watch list" so I am sure I was extra impressionable and vulnerable to any ads.) The Kool-Aide guy/pitcher/monster busting into happy events. The poor little rabbit who insisted on hanging around selfish little kids, unwilling to share. And the various cola taste tests with blindfolds and table set up outside grocery stores. (Were these staged? I'll never know.) Looking back I wonder what was going on at the time to inspire tastes testing as the marketing of choice.

On Easter, Slade and I were lamenting how jelly beans have changed over the years. In the good 'ole days, there was one kind (Brachs'). Now you have Jelly Bellies, Lifesaver, generic versions, spicy versions, etc. Blah. Just give us the plain ones.

After having the discussion, I had jelly beans on my mind. (I tend to fixate in life.) So I stopped in the candy aisle at Fred Meyer to pick up a bag. To my suprise there were no Brachs'. There was generic, Jelly Belly and generic gourmet. I looked for Easter left overs with no luck. So I headed to Haagens (at this point I was on determined and mission bound.) They had a bag of Brachs'. And they had the bulk no-name-generics.

And then I became curious if the taste was really all that different. Were Slade and I correct in our assumptions that Brachs' brand was better? This was a question I needed to prove. Thus the Jelly Bean Taste Test was created. The kids and their friends were more than accommodating in assisting. They didn't mind being "lab rats." Sawyer refrained, as he doesn't have an affinity for any brand of beans.

There were 3 bean options: A, B, & C, divided by color and brand.

Each person was given a survey.

And a glass of water to rinse their mouths between brands.

Then they were given brand A's red. Then B's red. Then C's red. And so on with each color. Kamille was sick by yellow, wisely stopped, and became the distributor.

The results:

Kameron and Kennah preferred A & C over B. Avy preferred all A. Slade preferred B with the exception of black. A and C were actually the same from-the-bin-brand.

Isn't "science" fun?!

Sweet SBW

Slade and the kids were flipping through youtube on Netflix last night waiting for me before watching a movie. Somehow they found this "innocent" little clip:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0G9vDKcdLg

But, little did we know it would do poor little Sawyer in for they next 24 hours. He started crying and was inconsolable. We talked through some of the emotions with him after he went to bed. But he was still processing the feelings this morning and didn't want to get out of bed because he was still upset. Somewhere along the day he decided the kiwi must have landed in water and thus, survived. He knows it is just a story, but he just can't get over the cute bird dying.

I never thought we'd be have existential discussions with an 11 year old.

at the mall

I do not go to the mall very often these days. For a variety of reasons. The economy, trying to reduce my footprint (there's not a lot that I truly NEED), getting older and find myself avoiding "crowds" and who's got the time?!

But we loaded the kids up last night to go for one reason. The Heart Gallery of Oregon http://www.heartgalleryoregon.org/ (I wrote about a couple months ago) has a display there. We wanted the kids to see kids that aren't in stable homes, to put a face with the idea that they can't take all their toys with them. That they don't always live with their brothers and sisters. That they may not every see their parents again. And that those parents were very likely abusive or neglectful. Their little world grew a little as we talked.

This is a print of an image I took back in the fall. He was adopted in December and returned to foster care in February.

I took this image in February. Very cute brothers. And so happy to be together for the session. They live in different foster care homes at the moment.

The rest of the images are not ones that I took, but I think they are cute. And Avy enjoyed using my cell phone to take them. If you find yourself at the mall (or even nearby), take a look. It shows through April and is close to the Barnes and Noble.

HUGE relief

It's Oregon dream-time! Sunshine, mid-70's, tulips and daffodils, and fresh cross breeze through open windows. The hope of spring. I know it won't last. Yet. The reason? I pulled out the box labeled, "Summer Clothes." I know I shouldn't have done it. But there are t-shirts that I haven't seen for 6 months just begging to be worn. Skin, that needs to be in different clothes, just waiting to be warmed (and turn even just a hint less pale.) So I did it. Yes, I take full responsibility for the next rainy day. But I couldn't defer my gratification.

I rolled the box from under the bed. Opened the lid and saw my favorite pants packed on top. Not even wrinkled. I must have planned ahead when packing and KNEW these would be the ones I would wear first. I slipped them on . . .and the were too tight. AGH! These clothes could not have "shrunk" over the winter. They had no dryer action. It was the depressing truth. No more denial. Instead, I less gleefully reached for a skirt--with elastic--while recollecting all the days I did not go to the gym.

A couple of hours went by (with a new found appreciation for walking Spock) and I had a little brainstorm. "Maybe those were the pants that I outgrew 3 summers ago and saved because I am going to loose a few pounds." I quickly dug deeper and found my beloved pants. And they do fit! I guess I am not destined to an entire summer of elastic after all.

Today

I think today is the kids' 3rd favorite "holiday." There is much planning and scheming all in the hopes to pull the perfect prank. However, they are still working out the correct proportions of believability and presentation. Skills. It's all about the April Fool's mad skills.

Even in my heightened awareness of the mumblings of youth, I still fall for things. Slade woke up this morning and started the day like any other day. Until he came rushing back upstairs, turned on the light and said, "Heidi, the basement is flooded!" So much for my warm cocoon, I was out of bed ready to save all my equipment and supplies. Once I was out, he reveled in his success. That darn Oregon rain makes such a prank believable.

One day I'll get him. And I am so ready for some sunshine!