The Annual

Every year at Kiernan's school they do something known as the Annual Project. The kids spend an incredible amount of time creating the year's annual project, and preparing for the moment when they will present said project to parents.  Parents are invited on a specific day at a specific time. They all assemble in the classroom and are educated by their children. Basically it's an opportunity for parents to see what their kids have been up to all year.

Did I mention that parents are invited? When I say above that "parents are invited" I don't mean the school sends out an email saying, "It would be nice if you could come by some time and check this out." No. This is a big freaking deal. It's a one time thing. It's an event. The invitation to attend is formal. Kiernan's invitation to us:

The Art of Nature. I know. It sounds hokey. The point is this. My kid's school did so much work to make art and math and science and language come together that I am a total believer. And I'll make you one too, before your reading of this is through. Yes, I kind of despise something called "The Art of Nature" as a knee-jerk reaction. The Art of Nature. Really? Are we in an episode of Portlandia here?

But it worked. It totally worked. Here's how I know it worked, in a few short steps:

1. My kid has started studying geometry. At age eight. EIGHT for goodness sakes.

2. I was asked to help with a photography project in the outdoor classroom at my kid's school. I readily accepted, and spent a morning helping kids take close-up pictures of plants and rocks.

3. I was told, as were the other parents, that this was for math.

4. Here is my kid's picture:

As soon as I turned in this picture, along with the other ones, I saw what the teachers were going for. There's all kinds of angles in there. You can see that. Anybody can see that. Even a math dope like me can see that.

So the kids worked out math concepts with their nature pictures (Kiernan's picture included a bit on acute angles) and then moved on to explore art concepts as related to studying plants and...well...that stuff plants grow in. Here's an example:

Each page of his annual project art book journal had a poem like this--a poem in a specific style, acrostic for example, or quatrain--backed by art inspired by a specific painter. Sure, I was a bit nervous upon seeing "Inspired by Georgia O'Keeffe" on one of his pages, but I got over it. Last week I was talking to a friend about my kid loving doing art, and teaching him about art. "Do you teach him about Jackson Pollock," my friend asked. "Because any kid can do that splatter stuff."

Fast forward a little bit. To the weekend before Iron Man 3. I decided we should watch the first Iron Man movie before taking Kiernan to the third, and he was up for it. At a certain point in the movie, Pepper Potts comes in and says some guy that wants to sell him a Jackson Pollock has another buyer for the painting. Kiernan says, "Jackson Pollock! We're doing him! Splatter art."

Turns out my friend was right. And I prefer Kiernan's version of the art:

The room was surrounded by huge cardboard murals decorated by the students. It was transformative. Beautiful and intimidating, as if Stonehenge had intruded upon the classroom in cardboard. It was so cool. Upon each mural the teachers had affixed examples of student work. Some of the work was string mathematic symbols I still haven't figured out. Some was the result of research the kids had done on endangered or extinct animals earlier this year, as Kiernan had done on a creature known as the Thorny Devil, an assignment that involved getting his first library card, which I chronicled earlier.  In the course of presenting his annual project, Kiernan systematically led us around the room, directing our attention to every detail. I cannot tell you how excited we were to absorb said details. Actually, I don't have to. This picture will convey it:

As will this one:

What joy it is to take pride in the work of your child. And what pleasure it is now to look back--no, that's wrong. It is a double pleasure to look back and think about the times my parents said they were proud of me, because now I get a glimpse of what that actually means.

Picture for This Day

Last night we decided to watch a movie. It's one Kiernan has seen before, but he was strangely okay with watching it again with his PapPap. So he likes to watch movies multiple times. Wonder where he gets that.

Not sure that should be a point of pride, but I'll take it.

Picture for This Day

I have no doubt I've posted this before, but I found it when going through some files tonight, and so have to post it again.

Enjoy.

From 2006. I send and wish love to all of you. And particularly wish well to Grand Daddy Jake.

Picture of This Day

Today we showed up at Kiernan's school for showings of the musical the third grade has been working on for the last few weeks. The musical is called "Pirates of Grammar Island" and this picture captures Kiernan right before the opening number of the first showing.

I'll put up some videos as soon as I can.

Chill

On Friday a good thing happened. Something my dad is sure to appreciate, as his grandson has. Menchie's, their favorite frozen yogurt place in the world, opened a new store just down the street from our house.

As the three of us drove home from school thinking about the weekend ahead, I recalled that Wendy had told me the place was opening on this day. It seemed to be "Coming Soon" forever, and when I turned onto Vanowen Boulevard there it was at the end of the shopping center with its doors open. Beckoning. I looked at Wendy and flicked my eyes over to the storefront. She nodded and I put on the turn signal.

They were offering free waffle cones. Well, not really cones per se, more like waffle inserts, and they were just okay tasting. But they were free, so what can you say but yes?

Speaking of which, since St. Patrick's Day was the coming Sunday, Kiernan got to pick clothes out of dress code. The shirt is this cool rugby jersey his godfathers, Darren and Daniel, got on a semi-recent trip to Ireland. It looks so cool on him. The hat he picked up when out shopping with his mom the other day. I love this outfit, and if he wanted to wear it every day, I'd be cool with that.

Coolest kid ever.

The Borrowers

I know what you're thinking. Sharpie! That kid is tagging that countertop! How sad that they've raised a vandal.

No, no. Kiernan is using that Sharpie to put his John Hancock down on his first library card. Yep. Look out world, next stop voting!

His latest project for third grade required he venture to the public library to get a book about an animal he'll be studying in class. He's known about this for a couple of weeks, and so has been going through various animals in preparation. His first choice was the komodo dragon. A cool choice that somehow fell by the wayside. Next came along the draco. I didn't even know that was an animal. I thought it was a mythical creature or a Harry Potter character. However, another boy in his class voiced his intention to do the draco, and so Kiernan backed off and considered the basilisk. I love the basilisk, and I think I first saw it during one of the many nature DVDs that my mom has given us over the years. I love those DVDs, and I love the basilisk, which is a cool little reptile that can walk on water.

Kiernan dropped the basilisk in due course and as we approached the library stated that he was going to settle on the anaconda. We both thought that was a fine choice, but asked him to leave the door open for other animals once we did a little research. Something endangered or rare, perhaps.

"Okay," he said. "So long as it's an endangered or rare reptile."

We got to the library and set about filling out applications for library cards for the Los Angeles Public Library system. I have a library card, but it's been so long since I used it that it was expired. I feel bad about that. We never go to the library. We have far more often gone to the bookstore to hang out than to the library. Why is that? We can get stuff there. I can get journal refills there. And a latte. And I feel like we can be louder there. Of course now all the bookstores are disappearing, so we just frequent Amazon. Kind of hard to hang out with your kid there. Sigh.

Anyway, we all filled out library card applications together, which was kind of fun. Then we all signed them.  There he is, up there, signing his.

His first library card. Here's hoping we use it more than once.

Oh, and the animal he settled on is called a Moloch. Also known as the thorny devil.

Picture for This Day

A rare picture of Wolverine and his mom.

Short Circuit

In the continuing saga that is Kiernan Learning to Ride A Bike, progress tends to be incremental, rather than by leaps and bounds. That's fine with us. We are in no hurry. This is obvious since it took us eight years (plus...yes, we know...plus) to get him off of training wheels. Now that he is off and riding, the little moments of progress are more pronounced, if less profound. In posts past he learned to ride on his own, and then mastered starting and stopping, and began the process of negotiating turns. This past weekend he learned to lead.

After soccer practice on Saturday we returned home and changed clothes. I decided a good father/son activity would be to go right back out and do some more bike practice, only this time I wanted to ride with him. Problem is we haven't quite figured out the logistics of bicycle transport yet. It's way too much of a production at present. Neither my car nor Wendy's has a bike rack, or bike clamp thingy attached to the back, so getting the bikes to the park takes some doing and involves multiple vehicles. Seats have to be put down or removed, and children have to be squozen in between them. It's pretty annoying. I don't see how in the future we are going to get around this. I need to figure out a solution that works for all three of us. Something Wendy can do too, when I'm not around. So hoisting bikes onto the roof of the car seems out of the question. Furthermore, mounting three bikes onto the back of the car seems unweildy. I mean, parallel parking is enough of a task without a weird extension slapped onto the back of the vehicle.

What I want is unreasonable. I want either some kind of teleportation device, or a bike shrinkage device. As neither of which seem to be in the offing, I suppose I'll have to figure something else out.

On this particular Saturday I was in luck. I figured if I could pull one of the back seats out of my car I could get both my bike and Kiernan's bike into the car and still get the two of us over to the college parking lot. The college is within fairly easy riding distance, but he's not quite ready for that kind of street riding yet, as he expressed to me when I floated this as an option. Wendy was off taking advantage of a massage Groupon that was about to expire, so I only had to consider our two bikes. As I said, luck was on my side. The seat behind my driver seat removed, both our bikes fit perfectly. Off to the college we went.

I pulled our bikes out and handed Kiernan his helmet. "I need to get one of these for myself," I said. "Why?" he asked. "You're an adult." I smiled. "Yeah, but I still need to protect my head." I don't want to wear one of those goofy helmets, but he's such a good sport about it that I want to do it out of solidarity. I can't stand it when his neighborhood friends rib him about wearing his helmet. I feel like a jerk for making him wear one. But why should I feel that way just because their parents don't care about head injuries happening to their children? [Yeah, that was a cruel thing to say, but it made me feel better.] The point is, I need to get helmets for Wendy and myself; if he has to endure the indignity brought about by safety [read: over-protectiveness , we should have to be in the same boat.

Kiernan got right on his bike and started riding, and I hopped on  mine too, following. "Don't follow too closely!" His voice conveyed way too much concern. "Why? You'll be fine," I assured him.

"What if I stop too quickly?"

"I can handle it. Believe me. I'll stop in time."

"What if you don't?"

"I will. I promise."

"I'll warn you."

We did a couple of circuits of the parking lot, me being careful not to be too close, and him being nervous I wasn't being careful about being too close. I offered to lead once, but he said he wasn't ready for that. "What if I follow too closely?"

Where all this worry about following too closely comes from is anyone's guess. I am reminded of learning to drive. My first time on the highway in Virginia, going to the mall. My dad constantly harping on the two-second rule for space between our car and the one in front of us. He was driving me nuts! Maybe that's one of those things that skips a generation, like the twins gene.

Anyway, it was a great day, and I can't wait to get back out again. Lessons to come, for those following his progress:

-Learning to start with his left foot: right now he can only get going if his right pedal is in the exact perfect position. He'll walk the bike around the block to get the pedals situated for this. I want him to start launching with his left foot, and then be able to start from the pedals at any position.

-Learning to get going with the bike facing uphill: right now he can only get started on a flat surface or facing downhill. I want him to be able to get going from a dead stop, on an incline. This is going to be a tough one, I believe. But it's a goal. And as I'm discovering daily, goals are good.

Here's a video of me following him that day at Pierce College. Yes yes, I know. Working camera while riding a bike is not exactly modeling good safety practice. What can I say? I'm a guerrilla blogging dad filmmaker. Some risks are to be expected.

Picture for This Day

A shot Wendy took a few weeks ago.

Turning the Corner

At long last we have taught Kiernan to ride a bike!

It's about time, you say. I agree, I reply. It's ridiculous that it has taken this long, but he's got it now and we're pretty excited. A few weeks ago we took him to a nearby park to get him up on his bike without training wheels for the first time in a very long time. Some time ago Gammy and Grance tried to get him to learn to do this. They removed the training wheels on the bike they'd given him and tried to help him learn, but we didn't reinforce their early efforts and Kiernan wasn't really interested in trying, so we stopped pushing the issue. Which, again, I realize was silly.

This time around he is ready. That first day he started to get the hang of it, and a few days later we moved on to another park and invited a few of his friends who can ride. On this outing he got it. One of us would get him started and run along with him holding onto the seat. In no time at all we were jogging along next to him without touching the bike for the most part. It was pretty exciting. He still could not start on his own, and stopping was a move more akin to "abandon ship!" than to stopping a bike and carefully dismounting. When he was ready to stop he'd slow down, swing his leg over and run away from the bike as it fell, reminding me of the way Bill Watterson depicts the relationship between Calvin and his bike. Calvin imagines his bike is an evil force that always out to get him.

A week or so later when Wendy was hanging out with friends I took Kiernan out to the park again to master starting and stopping, which he did fairly quickly. So he had most of the elements of bike riding and just needed more practice. As he rode in the neighborhood I realized I next needed to teach him tighter cornering. He would ride down the sidewalk with his friends. Stop his bike. Get off. Turn it around. And then ride back. That would never do, especially since we weren't allowing him to leave the sidewalk to turn around in the road as I did when I was a kid. Actually, when I was a kid we didn't even have sidewalks. Just five feet of snow. Uphill. Both ways.

So the next weekend it was off to the local college to practice his general skills and learn how to execute tighter turns. I decided a parking lot would be better than a bike path for this, both because it would afford him some space to tool around, and because it would enable him to practice without a bunch of people, including friends, around. I think part of what was holding him back and making him resistant to learning to ride the bike was that his friends were so good at it--especially the much younger brothers of his friends--and he was still learning. "Dude! Why's your dad still holding on to your bike?" That kind of thing will sour a kid on trying pretty quickly.

So we headed to Pierce College and set up a little obstacle course. He took to it right away, as you can see. Now he's making turns and starting and stopping like a pro. And, most importantly, after we finished riding on this day I asked him how he felt about it. "You know what? That was really fun!"

That's when we knew he had turned the corner for good.