The Week

Great: "Later Tuesday, Mr. Trump said of Ukraine’s leadership and the war, 'You should have never started it.'"

I think I forgot to tell you about President's Day--a day off for the boys and a day on for me. I was volunteering to teach prospective students; Q did the reading and joined the discussion and loved it, I think. At one point he mentioned that the idea we were talking about sounded like noblesse oblige and I saw the students cock their heads and raise their eyebrows in disbelief. He chirped in when I was working to assess the class afterward and did a fine job on that, too. We all went to the the group lunch. At lunch he questioned one prospective student about what he is doing to prepare for his intended career in cybersecurity and they talked coding a bit. A victory: The lunch was make-your-own sandwiches and Q made himself one. (I think this is his second sandwich ever. I feel so much hope for his future!) He came to class with me later in the day, too, but he hadn't read for that class, so he was bored and instead read his book. 

Tuesday I taught off campus. It is a long day--driving a big van, lots of waiting as we enter, and two hours of teaching (I haven't taught in that long chunk since grad school). But it was a good class--we're learning to stay on point a bit more. And I'm telling the students we don't have to cover everything to have a good conversation! The off-campus students talk way more than the ones I bring with me. This reading was fascinating--magnanimity, wit, bravery, virtue and vice as voluntary or not (we talked about addiction). It was great. And what does it mean to become good through the discussion (Aristotle's goal when it comes to ethics). What is the role of the parents, the teacher, the state. We do lots of small groups each time, too, which everyone loves. 

The Week

Not my favorite part of being furniture--communicating difficult information to a student. 

Chicago

 

Our trip: Mental health--as bad as it's ever been. Everything else about the trip--great. 

Q had a cough on our drive up. He told us that his teacher gave him a cough drop at school that day, and that one of his friends counted how many seconds between coughs (very, very few). We stopped en route to buy cough drops, but they basically only helped when he had it in his mouth. Not so great to spend the night with the four of us in one hotel room. 

Valentine's Day: In my heart I've always thought it was nonsense to care about these made-up holidays. But then the day comes and I'm mad if I don't have candy. So this year I was wise enough to tell Francisco--I do not by any means believe in Valentine's but it would be great if you could get me something. He brought a tiny bottle of champagne and lots of chocolates to Chicago. I'm very, very lucky in that man. 

The hotel breakfast was not great--they had red velvet waffles with whipped cream, sprinkles, and chocolate for Valentine's day, which meant that we had to stand in long lines to help the kids get this basically breakfast cake. Then I had to watch them eat it while also watching Sponge Bob on the TV (read: distraction, messes) all while listening to two audio sources (music and Sponge Bob). This situation was one big trigger for me. 

On Saturday, we followed up that torture with the pool, which everybody enjoyed and the kids did not want to leave. 

Then Al's Beef, which Francisco has become addicted to since The Bear. 

Then the Driehaus Museum--a Gilded Age mansion, restored. The chandeliers and the lamps and the vases and the tile were all to die for. I loved it. The boys were good--the docents really engaged them. (I guess it might make sense to tell you what good means for going on a house tour with my kids--they didn't complain at all; they also refused to look at anything on the second or third floors.)

I'm telling you--it was all the vases and the lamps. They were mostly flower-inspired. And there was so much green. 

I think clouds!

The museum was delighted to display contemporary art (above). The founder is dead, so I guess they can do what they want. 

Mary Cassatt!

The fire screen!

Then we stopped for coffee and croissants. Then a siesta at the hotel. 

Then we headed up to a play--a recreation of a debate at the Cambridge Union in 1965 between James Baldwin and William F. Buckley. It was fascinating and well done. And Q was able to follow along--and had thoughts. (Blaze got headphones and an audiobook.) The actors loved having kids there--most of the audience had grey hair and lived through the original debate. One actor came by afterward to tell the kids thanks for coming. 

We stopped for chipotle on the way home. Today: the traumatizing hotel breakfast, mass, home. 

There was a wonderfully homily--that the human condition is poor (we are born with nothing and we leave with nothing); that we need to weep--to need others, to be vulnerable. So I cried the whole way home. 

The church felt like it had been covered up for Good Friday--there were almost no statues or anything representational. The boys noticed--when I asked them what they thought about the stained glass, Blaze said he had two thought--he likes the colors; but he doesn't like that there are no pictures in them. 

A lovely, very cold walk to work. Even the clumpy brown winter grass gave long shadows. 

 

The Week

Happy Valentine's Day!

Yesterday--I had to run a meeting, which was totally fine, but I hate meetings and I'm drowning in meetings, and I'd much rather run a class. I mean, I did that, too. I love the classroom. In my intro class, I totally lose track of the time--there is never enough time. It's Hegel's self-conscious absorption. It is my totally favorite thing. It is me and the students and I know it's over because their mannerisms shift slightly--a glance at the clock, a shuffle of papers. And the class hour (50 minutes) is done. I'm so very grateful for teaching. 

We were all so tired last night--plus we had to pack because we're having a weekend away right at the end of the school day. 

I was explaining this morning to Blaze that we have to pick him up early from his after-school club. This caused a lot of angst--"No!"--because Friday is Blaze's favorite after school-club because they watch a movie together. I explained to him that we have to leave early because of the snow--"Because it will be prettier?" No, because we want to get there before the snow. "Because it will take longer to drive in the snow?" No, because the roads might be dangerous. "Because there might be sharp pointy things? [ice]" No, ice is dangerous not because it is pointy, but because it is slippery. What a kid. 

The boys have colds so Q had a lot of trouble sleeping--I gave him hot honey water and a lozenge in the middle of the night and am letting him sleep in this morning. I'm so glad when I am able to help my boys through hard things and make it better for them. 

Toward Laughter

"The story of Joe" --he meant the story of Job, my student in his homework

"Everyone likes his own work more than other people's, as parents and poets do." --Aristotle's Ethics

The Week

A good, peaceful day. Above: Talking about the form of the chair. 

Below: Obsessed with Blake at the moment. He wrote backwards in his relief illuminated printing--and in this illustration--Jerusalem--he depicts himself doing this in the bottom left. His illuminated printing was designed and implemented right as he went, page by page. 

Below: Stopped by a stopped train on my way home. Francisco and Blaze were my knights in shining armor and picked me up. Wasn't going to climb through a stopped train in freezing rain. 

I walked through inclement weather last night to attend the basketball game--we won. But I learned of some injuries and changes to the team that mean with three games left in the regular season things are really shaken up. We went from two-big men in at most points to last night where at one point there was only one big man and four guards, something that looked much more like our past basketball teams than anything I've seen this season. 

Oh--I made a very good chicken coconut curry for dinner that everyone ate, which meant it was a huge win, and Francisco said was restaurant-quality. Which of course here means that it's better than anything you can get within an hour--possibly within two hours. Q noted with disbelief that Francisco and I always say nice things about each others' cooking. Children. 

One More Thing

Q uses my phone to chat with his friends, which makes sharing this with you totally above-board. Have I mentioned that I'm obsessed with my kids' love for P&P?  

Thinking

Lines from class: "Getting everything to stick to [his name]"--my off-campus students tend to read more with personal application in mind. I love this. 

Also: "When I'm talking to you, sometimes I feel like I'm talking to Aristotle." 

 

The Week

This made a late afternoon meeting better. 

Blaze has gotten very funny lately. When practicing his piano yesterday he complained, "This is the hardest song of my career!"

During Pride and Prejudice, he put his observational skills to use: "Mr. Bingley doesn't have good judgment!" and "Mr. Bingley is silly!" I think he puts Bingley and Mr. Collins in approximately the same category. Then about Charlotte Lucas, "Never make a joke in front of the girl in the blue dress, because she won't think you're joking." He caught her seriousness!

Teaching off campus was very good, as usual. We stayed more on-point today, which was a huge relief to me. There was so much quoting from the text, so many good comments. And of course, there were big tangents too--we read Aristotle's Ethics, Book 2 for yesterday and the class found themselves at one point debating how much Christianity had influenced the American Founding. But in general, much more on point. 

The Week

I came home yesterday to salmon and caper quiche. I married well. 

I'm having some class discussions with students about AI this semester. I.e. what would Socrates and Callicles and Gorgias say about AI--in general and in education. The first discussion made me wonder--what if we think AI is better than us and so we defer to it. It could be a teacher who we can do no more than imitate, which is to say educational malpractice. (I'm increasingly thinking that the sign of a good teacher is that their students surpass them in wisdom and virtue and critique them.)

 

The Weekend

I was irritable and grumpy for no reason at all. Discouraging. 

Some good parts: Francisco took Q on a walk to the library and he checked out some books on sleight-of-hand. Q and Blaze spent lots of time trying out and practicing magic tricks. 

Q begged for Pride and Prejudice, so we watched the first hour together. It is his favorite--and we even talked about an Aristotelian interpretation where wit is the virtue and Lizzy has it; Mary has not enough; Lidia has too much. I am the luckiest mother-of-boys. If only I could get them into Anne of Green Gables, I would be perfectly happy. 

The boys always have a lot of inertia about not taking their weekly shower (for Q) and bath (for Blaze). After his shower, Q decided to follow it up with a bath. Q: "This is amazing! Blaze, you should be happy to take a bath!" Blaze: "I know it's amazing in there. It's just that you get showers every day [read once a week] and I take baths everyday, so it's not so amazing for me." 

They played together perfectly all weekend and listened together to their audiobook a lot. They are so very lucky to have each other. 

The Weekend

I forgot to say earlier that Thursday my friend took me for coffee and donuts and a nice visit to celebrate turning my manuscript over to some other people. She also gave me a bracelet! She was raised to mark milestones with a nice little celebration and it's been wonderful to share this tradition with her. 

I realized Friday that I've been teaching the Gorgias to someone born in Athens--who has never read Plato. Amazing. 

Friday night we took the kids to the next city for a kids' symphony. Q mostly read, though he liked the part where they showed off each of the instruments with a cool song. Blaze liked it a lot. I almost fell asleep (Friday night). 

Saturday was delightfully low key--the library book sale, watching an away basketball game (sadly a loss), walking to mass, finishing the Princess Bride, reading to the boys. 

Who is going to come take our tree down? 

Why is food so expensive?! It hits me the hardest when it comes to candy--I feel too much guilt to buy as much as I'd like to eat. 

Quote

"The Trump administration has promised to end a policy preventing ICE from arresting immigrants at houses of worship, schools and hospitals." Link

The Week

Last night I was tired. Francisco made quite a dinner--pork loin, roasted broccoli, roasted fingerling potatoes and garlic break. Q took his last (for now) guitar lesson--why push it? And we watched a bit of The Princess Bride. Blaze giggled and giggled. 

This morning the boys listened to their audiobook and played some chess. I love it. 

In one class we are watching, College Behind Bars (free if you go to the Bard site and the PBS educational site). So good. Also moves me, Ilana. 

The Week

Grading for my new off-campus class is incredible--the students make me laugh and make me cry in their answers. 

Last night was (too) intense: After Francisco took them out for McDonalds, I took the boys to game night at their school--bowling, cornhole, chess, popcorn and lemonade, free books, friends, they always have a blast. I got to see lots of parents that I know, too, and had some nice chats. But there was a miracle: I always get stressed and anxious at things like this--long lines, tons of kids in one space, chaos. Somehow I had a nice time and didn't get stressed or anxious. I reflected on this afterward--I kept thinking about how I felt and being shocked that I didn't feel bad. Is the EMDR kicking in? Is it just that the boys are older and don't spill their lemonade or eat popcorn off the ground anymore? Is it that we got there early and avoided a few lines? Who knows, but I'll take it!

After that, we headed to the basketball game for a really big game. We lost by a very narrow margin. It was so fun and so close, and I loved it. Francisco came. And we sat with some friends. The boys played in another gym--we shots some hoops together for a few minutes at half time.

BUT when we came home the boys *totally* fell apart (fair enough--too much for one day). There was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Francisco gently and firmly put them to bed. 

The Week

 

Teaching off campus: The first class with a reading. The trick will be, as I realized in the first couple of weeks, balancing the huge energy of everyone to talk and critique the reading in a big seminar with the interest in getting some clarity on parts of the reading, especially for those who are coming at this sort of text for the first time. 

Also, it's been since grad school that I taught a two-hour class. But in this class there's so much energy to talk and that energy just doesn't wear off at all till like 3/4 of the way through. So I need to think about when to break into smaller groups. 

The off-campus students love (so far) to bring up examples from the Bible--Job was a big topic of discussion today. I need to remember to have us recap the story for those who have less biblical literacy. 

We managed a podcast on the ride there--This American Life, The Case of Henry Dee. I really can't recommend it enough to you all. My second time listening and I was near tears. 

The Week

 

Yesterday I started class with some Eliot: 

Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart's heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul's sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time's covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable Zero summer?

I mean the day was incredible, wasn't it? I walked as much as possible--to and from work with a walk when I had a break and Blaze and I walked to his piano lesson. 

Listening to Blaze and his teacher go back and forth during his lesson is a real delight. She pushes him; he pushes back. Who knew my quietest kid would be my most outgoing? He really likes her and he really likes piano. 

In my middle age, I've really come to love the trees in the winter, silhouetted against the sky--especially when silhouetted against the changing colors of sunrise or sunset. I love the different ways they grow, their different shapes. I love what they're still holding on to from the fall. I love--in the earliest trees--the swell in the buds already. 

I was so tired yesterday--Blaze had woken me up quite early and I had therapy--so Francisco made wonderful tacos with loads of guacamole. (Trying to eat all the avocados now, just in case they get tariffed.) 

The Weekend

The weekend continued to be pretty nice. I finished this embarrassingly terrible craft that I probably started 18 months ago just in time to hang it on the tree for the (according to me and tradition) last day of the Christmas season. (It is Q's name saint's cathedral, which we visited and of which I refused to buy a 15 pound ornament. Clearly a mistake.)

A lovely, warm walk this morning. 

I need to take the tree down now.