Sunday, September 18, 2005

Wired

They say your body starts reacting differently to normal, every day things when you start getting old. I believe it's true. There was a time when I could drink as much caffeine as I wanted, and it didn't affect me. But I've noticed, for the past couple of months, that if I drink it in the evening, it affects my sleep. I've been denying it to myself, but tonight, as I sit here at 3 freaking 47 in the morning, after having flopped and flipped in bed for 2 hours trying in vain to make my mind SLOW DOWN ALREADY.... tonight, I must admit: the Grande Coffee Frappucino I downed at Starbucks 6 hours ago is most definitely affecting me.


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And so, I'll blog.

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Ian is a boy genius. I hate to brag, and I try not to do it TOO often, lest I make you guys wanna puke, but I SWEAR. He is. Sometimes, I catch him explaining things to Aidan, in terms and in ways that astound me. To watch him play is to watch a scientist in the lab. 'Cause he doesn't play. He inspects, studies, wonders, hypothesizes, investigates, experiments, and draws conclusions. His forehead wrinkles, his eyebrows furrow, his wheels turn.

The other day, his preschool teacher sent home Shapes and Colors, saying, "Have the boys study these tomorrow. We'll have a test on Thursday!" On Thursday, as we climbed into the car to go to school, Aidan saw the Shapes and Colors lying on the floorboard. "We didn't study!" he exclaimed. When I picked them up that afternoon, both teachers met me at the door. "Your boys are so smart!! They both knew ALL their shapes and colors. You must have really worked with them." I answered simply, "No. We just play a lot." I didn't have the heart to say, "Lady, we did Shapes and Colors 18 months ago. These boys are into addition now."

'Tis true. About six months ago, having mastered the recognition of the alphabet (upper- and lowercase), and the sounds that go with each letter, we moved on to simple addition. I don't remember how it came up, but it was Aidan who asked the question. "How many does that make?" And in true Kocur fashion, I answered with a question, "Well, if you have one apple, and I give you one MORE apple, how many apples do you have?" Before Aidan could process the question, Ian piped up. "TWO!" I thought it was a fluke. So I tried another one. "If you have TWO apples, and I give you one MORE, then how many do you have?" Immediately, Ian said, "THREE!" We played the game for several days, and even started throwing subtraction into the mix. Then he refused to play anymore. He started giving bogus answers. He will. not. be. my. monkey.

We've been working on reading...sounding out simple words like "go", "dog" and "no". One morning, Ian climbed out of his bed, toddled to my bedroom and said, "Mom. That sign in the kitchen says 'No'. Why does it say 'No'?" I could not for the life of me think of what he was talking about, so we both came downstairs, and he showed me. On the microwave, there are two buttons. One says "Off". The other says, "On."

"Ian," I explained, "that doesn't say 'no'. It says 'on'. The letters are the same, but they're in a different order, so it spells a different word." He answered, "It's says 'no'. But they spelled it wrong."

A few nights ago, I came to bed after Darren had fallen asleep. When I snuggled up to him, he said, "The weirdest thing happened tonight. After I read the boys their story, Ian laid here looking at another book - that one about the bears on vacation. I'd read it to them sometime last week, and it was still here on the table. Anyway, he was thumbing through the book, and I heard him say, softly, without meaning to, "But don't go too far." So I looked down at the page, and that's exactly what it said! He saw me looking, and he got all embarrassed like he does, and quickly turned the page. Then he said some random thing about a rock, and added, "See Dad? I can't read! I'm just looking at the pictures."

Maybe it's the caffeine talking, but I think we have a winner here. I bet the dude CAN read and just doesn't wanna admit it. Just like he can ADD and won't admit THAT.

I bet he's upstairs right now, with a flashlight under his covers, checking Dani's geometry homework for the fun of it.

I better go check.

3 comments:

Elaine said...

Fake non-reading. I love it. LOL!

Nancy D. said...

Oh. Dear.

So very Emma-esque.

When you are banging your head against a wall because your scary smart kid is bringing home C's because he's either getting A's or F's (the latter cause he was in "I don't feel like demonstrating my knowledge" phase)... I'll be there.

Cause I AM there.....

Red said...

Lol,
Go Ian! My mom says I went through the same thing, hiding the fact that I could read so that she would read to me. I think I just liked snugglin up with my mom and reading a book with her. :P