As many of you know, a few months ago our 7 year old declared himself a vegetarian. Since that time, he has kept his diet largely meat-free. For awhile, we could get him to eat a little seafood - we explained that some vegetarians do that and it's okay. He looked a bit skeptical, but he accepted our premise. At the time, he was sitting in front of a large plate of calamari and I think he was secretly happy to find a loophole that allowed him to try a tentacle or two. Since that time, I think he's gone back to abstaining from all meat.
While many people are intrigued by N's diet decision, no one appears more so than his older brother, B. He seems almost offended by N's position. If you ask N why he made this choice, you'll get a pretty simple answer: "Because I like animals and I don't think people should kill them just to eat them." This answer was not sufficient for B. Early on, he was like a criminal prosecutor, trying to poke holes in this position and get his brother back on the meat wagon. We were witness to conversations like:
B: "If you won't eat chicken, why do you eat eggs? Eggs turn into chickens, you know."
N: "I said I don't eat meat. Eggs aren't meat."
B: "But they turn into meat."
N: "But they aren't meat yet."
While enjoying Chinese take-out, N found that he really liked mock duck (once he was assured it was not real meat). B saw an opening:
B.: "So, you like mock duck because it tastes like meat! So, you're admitting that you like the taste of meat!" (At this point, B sat back with a look of satisfaction, confident he had won the day.)
N.: "I never said I didn't like the taste of meat. I just don't want to eat it."
B: (somewhat deflated) "Well, I'm still not sure if that makes you much of a vegetarian if you admit you like the taste of meat."
N: (shrugs and takes another helping of mock duck)
While it does make meal planning a challenge at times, I admire N's conviction. His choice to not eat meat was a personal one. He doesn't really care what vegetarians or vegans or pescatarians or any other group does. Over the weeks, he's developed his own guidelines and he sticks to them. I respect that. I think even his brother has finally come to understand and accept N's position. I've overheard him explain it to others.
Luckily for us, N is fairly adventurous for his age when it comes to trying different foods. He's always been a big fan of hummus and black beans. If we're having meat, he'll sometimes have a hummus or peanut butter sandwich instead. Our doctor assures us that he is not lacking for protein and that he is perfectly healthy. We're probably all eating a little healthier as we try to incorporate dishes that work for everyone.
In the spirit of compromise, N recently reminded me that the only reason he won't eat meat is because he doesn't think people should kill animals. He said he would eat meat if we could prove that the animal it came from died of old age. Yum.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Our Fence
We have a chain link fence that goes around our backyard. We did not install this fence. It was already there when we bought our house. A few years ago, the neighbors to the north of us put up a privacy fence. They said they were putting up the fence because of their dog. I'm beginning to think they may have just said this to assuage any hard feelings since their dog is rather small and the fence is rather tall. They have since moved on, no doubt putting up fences in new places. Their tall fence remains, forcefully delineating the north side of our yard. Our little chain link fence still runs along side it. I suppose we could remove our fence - it is a little silly to have two fences side by side within inches of each other. Still, I like my fence and I see no reason why I should go through the hassle of removing it just because of a foolish decision a former neighbor made.
You can barely see the fence on the west side of our yard. That's the back of our yard and the fence is buried behind pine trees and a garden shed. There is one small opening next to the shed. Our neighbors on the other side have a shed back there as well. Occasionally, we'll chat if we happen to both be getting something from our sheds at the same time.
The fence on the south side of our yard is by far the most exposed and beaten portion of all. Whereas the other two sides run level, the south side dips a little in the middle. It is also the only part of the fence that has rust - just a light layer, along the top rail. This section of fence has been climbed and jumped countless times by my sons and by my neighbor's sons. My neighbor's oldest son is the same age as my youngest son. They also have another son a few years younger and now a new daughter.
A few years ago, we discussed with our neighbors the possibility of putting in a gate. Removing the fence wasn't a viable option since they have a dog and we have cats and, while the kids play well together, the pets do not. All parties agreed that a gate would be a great thing to have and it didn't seem overly difficult to do. Definitely a do-it-yourself project. Each summer, as we watched kids (and sometime adults) struggle to get over the fence, the gate topic would come up again. And each fall we'd realize another summer had slipped away and still there was no gate in the fence. By now, the boys are quite adept at leaping the fence and would likely not use the gate even if it was there. There is, however, a little girl who's not yet walking but will someday need to get on the other side of the fence. And there are the adults, who are perhaps reaching the age where gate leaping should be avoided.
So, this past weekend, I bought a gate and all the necessary hardware. Everything's piled carefully in the garage. The kids on both sides of the fence are excited at the prospect of it. I am excited as well. I think the gate will provide a nice counter-balance to the privacy fence opposite it.
Yes, this is the summer we put in the gate. Let's see, I think we've got something going on tonight and we have baseball games or practice the following three nights. Next weekend I might be able to work on it, except I get this feeling we might have something already scheduled. Hmm, perhaps this will just be the summer we bought the gate.
You can barely see the fence on the west side of our yard. That's the back of our yard and the fence is buried behind pine trees and a garden shed. There is one small opening next to the shed. Our neighbors on the other side have a shed back there as well. Occasionally, we'll chat if we happen to both be getting something from our sheds at the same time.
The fence on the south side of our yard is by far the most exposed and beaten portion of all. Whereas the other two sides run level, the south side dips a little in the middle. It is also the only part of the fence that has rust - just a light layer, along the top rail. This section of fence has been climbed and jumped countless times by my sons and by my neighbor's sons. My neighbor's oldest son is the same age as my youngest son. They also have another son a few years younger and now a new daughter.
A few years ago, we discussed with our neighbors the possibility of putting in a gate. Removing the fence wasn't a viable option since they have a dog and we have cats and, while the kids play well together, the pets do not. All parties agreed that a gate would be a great thing to have and it didn't seem overly difficult to do. Definitely a do-it-yourself project. Each summer, as we watched kids (and sometime adults) struggle to get over the fence, the gate topic would come up again. And each fall we'd realize another summer had slipped away and still there was no gate in the fence. By now, the boys are quite adept at leaping the fence and would likely not use the gate even if it was there. There is, however, a little girl who's not yet walking but will someday need to get on the other side of the fence. And there are the adults, who are perhaps reaching the age where gate leaping should be avoided.
So, this past weekend, I bought a gate and all the necessary hardware. Everything's piled carefully in the garage. The kids on both sides of the fence are excited at the prospect of it. I am excited as well. I think the gate will provide a nice counter-balance to the privacy fence opposite it.
Yes, this is the summer we put in the gate. Let's see, I think we've got something going on tonight and we have baseball games or practice the following three nights. Next weekend I might be able to work on it, except I get this feeling we might have something already scheduled. Hmm, perhaps this will just be the summer we bought the gate.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
It's a jungle out there
Lately, during my lunchtime walks, I've noticed quite a few people with clipboards. I'm always leery of someone loitering at a busy corner with a big old clipboard. Another survey, another cause, another person I need to avoid. It doesn't matter what the topic is, I'd just rather not participate. It is not what I have planned for my lunch hour. In my mind, these folks are like lions, lying in wait outside all the popular watering holes. And me? I'm an old zebra with sore knees - an easy target. Luckily, I have found a number of alternate routes that usually keep me in the clear.
Sometimes, despite my best efforts, I cannot avoid walking past someone who would like to thrust their clipboard at me. In these instances, I employ a few choice strategies. As I approach, I avoid all eye contact and attempt to maximize the distance between them and me. If I sense they are looking my way, I may make a point of glancing at my watch and grimacing - the international sign for "I'm running late. Do not bother me." Once, an untimely "Don't Walk" signal forced me to wait at a corner with one of these animals. Thinking quickly, I pretended to get a call on my cell phone - it was pretty effective except I felt sort of silly carrying on a fake conversation until the light changed. By far, the best strategy is the sacrifice play. As you approach, find someone else walking nearby and adjust your gait and location such that this person is between you and the stalker. The clipboard creature is an opportunistic hunter - it will attack the closest prey. This gives you an opportunity to scoot on past. If you are unable to scoot, at least try to muster a scamper, you have a limited escape window.
Now, I don't always have to avoid these predators. Sometimes, they ignore me. When I see someone with a clipboard in the distance I usually watch them for awhile to see what sort of prey they're after. Are they grabbing anyone or targeting a specific group? Sometimes they are only interested in talking to college-aged passers-by. I like those occasions when they are ignoring my demographic. Like a pilot fish swimming with a shark, I can walk beside this data hunter without fear of attack.
There is one last strategy that I have considered but not tried. After studying their habits, I have noticed that these creatures never seem to attack each other. We have some clipboards in the office. Some day, I may just bring one with me on my walk.
Sometimes, despite my best efforts, I cannot avoid walking past someone who would like to thrust their clipboard at me. In these instances, I employ a few choice strategies. As I approach, I avoid all eye contact and attempt to maximize the distance between them and me. If I sense they are looking my way, I may make a point of glancing at my watch and grimacing - the international sign for "I'm running late. Do not bother me." Once, an untimely "Don't Walk" signal forced me to wait at a corner with one of these animals. Thinking quickly, I pretended to get a call on my cell phone - it was pretty effective except I felt sort of silly carrying on a fake conversation until the light changed. By far, the best strategy is the sacrifice play. As you approach, find someone else walking nearby and adjust your gait and location such that this person is between you and the stalker. The clipboard creature is an opportunistic hunter - it will attack the closest prey. This gives you an opportunity to scoot on past. If you are unable to scoot, at least try to muster a scamper, you have a limited escape window.
Now, I don't always have to avoid these predators. Sometimes, they ignore me. When I see someone with a clipboard in the distance I usually watch them for awhile to see what sort of prey they're after. Are they grabbing anyone or targeting a specific group? Sometimes they are only interested in talking to college-aged passers-by. I like those occasions when they are ignoring my demographic. Like a pilot fish swimming with a shark, I can walk beside this data hunter without fear of attack.
There is one last strategy that I have considered but not tried. After studying their habits, I have noticed that these creatures never seem to attack each other. We have some clipboards in the office. Some day, I may just bring one with me on my walk.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A Sweet Embrace
I was lying on the couch one afternoon when N decided to lie on top of me. He often does this if he finds me lying on my back. He's never very delicate as he climbs aboard. I think, to him, I am just a big pillow. Within seconds, he positions himself such that our faces are pressed together and he is staring directly into my eyes. Even at this close proximity I can sense the grin on his face as he waits for a reaction.
I also climbed on my father when I was a child. I remember him lying on the couch in the sun porch, probably tired from a week of working in the fields. I remember the faint smell of tobacco and coffee and the way the stubble on his cheek felt against my face. Mostly, I remember how good it felt to be next to him.
I don't know how often I did this or how long I stayed with him. I'd forgotten the memory completely until the first time one of the boys climbed on me. It makes me wonder what other memories are locked away, waiting for the right key to access them.
So, as N waits for a reaction, I give him the only one I can. I wrap my arms around him. I hold him for a moment and appreciate how wonderful the bond between parent and child feels. To him, this exercise is largely a game. I doubt he realizes what a gift he has given me. Someday, if he has children of his own, perhaps he will.
I also climbed on my father when I was a child. I remember him lying on the couch in the sun porch, probably tired from a week of working in the fields. I remember the faint smell of tobacco and coffee and the way the stubble on his cheek felt against my face. Mostly, I remember how good it felt to be next to him.
I don't know how often I did this or how long I stayed with him. I'd forgotten the memory completely until the first time one of the boys climbed on me. It makes me wonder what other memories are locked away, waiting for the right key to access them.
So, as N waits for a reaction, I give him the only one I can. I wrap my arms around him. I hold him for a moment and appreciate how wonderful the bond between parent and child feels. To him, this exercise is largely a game. I doubt he realizes what a gift he has given me. Someday, if he has children of his own, perhaps he will.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Birdhouse
Late last summer I hung a birdhouse in our back yard.
It was a fine house. Rustic, with a perching post.
I would live there, I thought, if I were a bird.
I selected a branch in one of our evergreens,
High enough to be away from the hustle and bustle of our yard.
I carefully secured the house and positioned its doorway to look out onto the lawn.
A nice house in a prime location I thought.
I waited for the rest of the summer and all fall but no birds came.
It was the wrong time of the year.
I knew this, but still I hoped, perhaps.
The house hung there, empty, all winter.
By Spring I had forgotten about the house,
Instead focusing my attention on the garden.
As I sat on the back porch and tried to decide the best place for tomatoes,
I could sense something different about the yard.
It took a moment to notice my new neighbor,
Sitting on a branch just above his home.
It was his singing that had changed the nature of my back yard.
I hope he enjoys the house.
It was a fine house. Rustic, with a perching post.
I would live there, I thought, if I were a bird.
I selected a branch in one of our evergreens,
High enough to be away from the hustle and bustle of our yard.
I carefully secured the house and positioned its doorway to look out onto the lawn.
A nice house in a prime location I thought.
I waited for the rest of the summer and all fall but no birds came.
It was the wrong time of the year.
I knew this, but still I hoped, perhaps.
The house hung there, empty, all winter.
By Spring I had forgotten about the house,
Instead focusing my attention on the garden.
As I sat on the back porch and tried to decide the best place for tomatoes,
I could sense something different about the yard.
It took a moment to notice my new neighbor,
Sitting on a branch just above his home.
It was his singing that had changed the nature of my back yard.
I hope he enjoys the house.
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Spill
Somebody spilled something.
Sometime last winter someone spilled something.
Something wet and runny.
On that wintry day it trickled and seeped and oozed its way into some dark crevice where it likely froze.
It lay there dormant for the rest of the winter, unseen, lurking in the shadows.
With the returning warmth of Spring it was reawakened.
Heat and time worked their magic to give the something new power.
Still unseen but unwilling to remain unnoticed, it announced its presence.
Yep, my car smells funny.
Sometime last winter someone spilled something.
Something wet and runny.
On that wintry day it trickled and seeped and oozed its way into some dark crevice where it likely froze.
It lay there dormant for the rest of the winter, unseen, lurking in the shadows.
With the returning warmth of Spring it was reawakened.
Heat and time worked their magic to give the something new power.
Still unseen but unwilling to remain unnoticed, it announced its presence.
Yep, my car smells funny.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Chapter Book
N started and finished reading his first chapter book this past weekend. It had been a goal of his since the middle of the school year to read a "Magic Tree House" book by himself. For first grade conferences this past winter, each student had to come up with a goal for the remainder of the school year and N came up with this one on his own. At the time, it seemed like a bit of a stretch and his teacher had suggested a more attainable alternative to use as a backup (be able to read "Frog and Toad" quickly). N accepted this, but his primary goal has always been the chapter book.
Even though he does a lot of reading in school and we read to him nightly, up until last weekend we hadn't actually suggested he try reading this chapter book. I'm not sure how he was going to meet his goal. Anyway, on Friday I pulled out the first "Magic Tree House" book of the series and brought it up for bedtime reading. I read the first chapter as N looked on. When I finished, we discussed how many words he knew - most of them, it turns out. Now, I usually read a few chapters at bedtime but this time I stopped after chapter one. I told N that Mom would probably read a little more when she came up, but that he could read ahead some on his own if he wanted to.
That was all it took. We found out the next morning that he had found a flashlight and had been reading after lights out. He read in the van on the way to his cousin's graduation party. At the party, he read as he walked around the house until he finally finished it.
Here are some of my favorite quotes from N during this time:
He started his second chapter book last night.
Even though he does a lot of reading in school and we read to him nightly, up until last weekend we hadn't actually suggested he try reading this chapter book. I'm not sure how he was going to meet his goal. Anyway, on Friday I pulled out the first "Magic Tree House" book of the series and brought it up for bedtime reading. I read the first chapter as N looked on. When I finished, we discussed how many words he knew - most of them, it turns out. Now, I usually read a few chapters at bedtime but this time I stopped after chapter one. I told N that Mom would probably read a little more when she came up, but that he could read ahead some on his own if he wanted to.
That was all it took. We found out the next morning that he had found a flashlight and had been reading after lights out. He read in the van on the way to his cousin's graduation party. At the party, he read as he walked around the house until he finally finished it.
Here are some of my favorite quotes from N during this time:
"What's the date? I want to remember the day I finished my first chapter book."
"I know what this word is just by looking at it. I sounded it out once, but now I know it's Pterodon, which sounds like it should start with a T. I'm glad I don't need to sound that out again."
"When I get to school on Monday, I'm going to ask Mrs. Schultz if there's anything else she still needs to teach me for first grade since I already knew how to do math and now I'm reading chapter books."
He started his second chapter book last night.
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