1. We went to the Minnesota History Center yesterday morning, for school. We all agreed that we need to go back in a few weeks and spend more time there at the new exhibits.
We went because the History Center has a tornado exhibit. M has recently been watching videos and reading books about tornadoes because he wants to be less afraid of them. If my kids get nothing else out of their childhood except “education is the answer to phobia” I will consider my job well done. So he wanted to go confront the spinning cloth tornado at the museum.
He did. I was super-proud of him. After looking at it for a moment he half-laughed and said, “that looks almost funny!” We then sat through the five-minute multimedia presentation of being in a cellar during a recreated tornado. Lights blow out, fake trees crash to the ground outside the basement window, and the roaring of the storm makes the whole “basement” shake. At one point you can hear the home’s piano crash onto the structure above you. M sat through that with no problems.
Afterwards we went to the Greatest Generation exhibit. This was very well done, and I highly recommend it. The multimedia aspects were very good, very clever. We rushed through the second half, not even stopping to look at things, and missed the 1968 exhibit entirely. We’ll return in a few weeks, I expect.
2. I finished my Yuletide draft. I need to edit it, then send it to beta readers for editing.
3. We’re going to the new member meeting for the unitarian church we’re joining. There is a …. personality inventory to fill out ahead of time. I find these things to be rather funny, and don’t take them incredibly seriously. “Do people take strength from your words of comfort?” Well, now, that surely depends on whether they find the things I say comforting, now doesn’t it? Some people find “You’re right, this sucks, and all your choices are bad ones” to be very comforting, others do not. How am I to know? So I’ll just answer “two,” for “sometimes.”
My partner, J, on the other hand, finds these things to be incredibly vague and impossible to answer. “How important is your devotional practice to you?” reads the question. J wants to know what “devotional” “important” and “practice” mean in this context.
I told her, trust me, you don’t have a devotional practice. Answer “zero”. But she still wanted to have the question defined.
4. My kids are half- driving me crazy, and half- being adorable and sweet and cooperative.
K is still complaining of ankle pain. Which, fine, if your ankle hurts, light exercise, circles, no wild/rough playing, wear a brace in classes. But what K wants to to do all the fun things she likes and use “my ankle hurts” to get out of doing her laundry chore or taking the garbage out.
We try in the house to have a reasonable and consistent approach to sickness and injury. If you are sick or injured, you get certain things — you get out of some chores, you get to watch more videos. But you also miss play times, you miss seeing people, you miss certain food-treats. If your ankle is so sore you cannot take out the garbage, then it is far too injured to play at the history center, go sledding, or play outside in the snow. If you can do those things, then take out the garbage.
Filed under: Uncategorized