September 23, 2006

Crossing the Rafficon

(For those who didn't major in history, look up "crossing the Rubicon" and you'll understand...)

My office is gradually becoming a preschool classroom. This is not because I want to give my children that little extra burst of knowledge that will get them into Harvard, but because of two recent factors. First, after a few weeks of freedom from nursing, I am a FIREBALL of energy, comparatively speaking. I've been frustrated for the last few years, wondering whence my energy had gone, since I had big plans for housewifery; it was annoying to me that I didn't feel like doing much of anything except sitting on the couch and reading (fortunately, that including reading to my kiddos). But now, I'm just amazed every day at how much I accomplish. Apparently my body has been quite busy, and now that it's not, I can go back to using it myself.

The second factor is that I'm BORED. Again, I have more *mental* energy now, and planning little preschooly lessons is helping to keep my brain active. Besides, I always did like to color, and now I have an excuse (I've made myself a little flannelboard, and am just having a high ol' time finding patterns to play with on it.) I have invested a relatively small amount of cash in supplies and materials (but still much less than even a week of "paid" preschool, so I still feel virtuous.) And in one of those twists of fate that Joseph Campbell would argue are anything but, just last week I picked up a whole slew of books and "stuff" through Freecycle, from a lady who is going into primary ed. but had decided not to do early childhood ed. (and whose own daughter was well past needing any of the goodies. We had a nice chat about teaching and the teacher training process while I was picking up her stuff, too. She had a lot of questions!)

And as for Raffi...before I had children, I had a strange picture in my head about this Raffi fellow. For some reason, I pictured a scruffy Rastafarian-looking type, singing the Banana Song and then sneaking off stage for a reefer. Perhaps because "Rasta" and "Raffi" are both five letter words beginning with 'R'? I was not at all sure that this was a trend I wanted to buy into when I had children of my own. Anyway, now I've found out that not only is he a reasonable innocent looking folkie (though I have no data on what he does offstage ;-) ), but he's the singer of the "Shake Our Sillies Out" song, as well as several others we do at the library. So I gave in and checked out some of his stuff (having also discovered that, while the library charges a buck for *visual* stuff, *audio* items are still free). It'll be fun to weave into our fun and games in the office.


On a mostly unrelated note, Emily has become a Blankie Girl. Laura had a vague attachment to a small stuffed Pooh Bear head, but Emily has made a strong and vociferous connection to one particular blankie, probably not coincidentally, within days of weaning herself. Fortunately, we have two in the same color and style (and she doesn't seem to notice the differences between them--this makes laundry a lot easier, since she also likes to drag one least the floor gets swept that way!). In more good fortune, Mah, who made them in the first place, has been commissioned to make two more for us (one already delivered). I don't *want* to get the stomach flu, but at least now, we're prepared, blankie-wise.

1 comment:

Tami said...

My niece Kelli was a total Raffi nut when she was a kid. She's just starting her freshman year at OIT now. When she was little and still Raffified, she and her family were vacationing up north someplace (Seattle? Canada?) and just happened to bump into Raffi in a hotel elevator. They all sort of stood there, looking at him, stammering, "are you....him?" Raffi wasn't really amused nor friendly about it, and my sister never thought much of him after that. Even so, he does seem to take his job very seriously (they must've met him in his off hours) and we have spent our share of hours listening to him. My sister and I actually joke about still knowing the lyrics. Sad, I know!

Anywayyyyyy......SO GLAD to hear you are getting your oomph back. If you find mine somewhere along the way, would you send it home to me? I might not recognize it, it's been so long...

Amazing how those brain cells seem to get sucked out your nipples, eh?

If I come across any of our old Raffi tapes (handed down from my sister), I'll save 'em for ya. ;)