Carl is showing more interest in letters, sounds, and writing, albeit in his own slightly bizarre way. For instance, Rod says Carl asked him to spell “force field” as they were driving today.
A couple of days ago, Carl and I were talking about how to spell a couple of easy words, and tracing the “n” in Ben in the air with our fingers. Then Carl asked how to write “domestic cat.” I told him it was complicated and he’d need to get some paper, which he did. So I slowly sounded it out for him, and helped him remember how to write the letters in “domestic.”
Then we moved on to “cat.” Carl drew the C, the letter he knows best, of course, but backwards, starting at the bottom. Then he pointed out a couple of bumps toward the middle of the C. “It looks like cat ears!” And he starts doodling them in. “No, a cat head!” and he keeps going… “Now it’s a cat body…chasing a mouse.” Finally, the C drawing is complete and we move on to the A, which gets converted to a tent.
It is intriguing to me, how he’s in a place between drawing and writing. Carl’s journal work at school is all drawing, but the teacher says he tells the story to himself as he draws (complete with missile fire and light saber sounds). At home, he sometimes has me write words in text bubbles for the little guys in his drawings, like in the comics. He’s fascinated with some junior graphic novels we’ve been checking out of the library (which Ruby can read to him…the librarian says they’re a popular gateway drug for budding readers).
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Current Events Recap: Ruby tested negative for flu and strep, but stayed very sick until Friday, when it all morphed into a cold. So, she missed the end of school, but recovered in time to go on a sleepover Friday night. Carl went, too, which meant that Rod and I had impromptu date night: sushi and Star Trek. Yes, I was being nice to Rod, wasn’t I? It wasn’t so bad for a science fiction/adventure/explosions movie. Of course, the kids were exhausted crabby zombies this afternoon. Trade offs, trade offs.
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Today, Rod took the kids to a playdate at a park for the kids in Carl’s class. One of Carl’s classmates, S, complained to Rod that Carl is mean to her at school.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, S,” says Rod. “What does Carl do, to be mean to you?”
“He says he won’t marry me,” pouts S.
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For the record, Carl said last week that he won’t have any babies, either. I think he was mostly worried about getting “fat” (pregnant). He seemed pretty relieved when I told him boys couldn’t give birth, so he wouldn't have to get pregnant, but I took pains to stress that daddies have to take care of their babies, so he shouldn’t help make any until he’s ready.
Then Ruby got confused about how you can have babies if you're not married, which leads down a wandering path towards adoption, infertility treatments and her friends with same-sex parents. I realized that I have a gift for leaving my children more confused at the end of the discussion than they were at the beginning. But at least it was an interesting dinner.
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