Friday, July 3, 2009
So, um, a month has gone by without a post. Write it off to 'Life.'
Anyway. First Grade is out; we've had two weeks of no camp, no school, no real routine. I've had heartburn which is probably a heartattack just testing the waters. I've gone swimming more than ever...of course taking the kids. It kills me to see them inside, doing nothing, watching TV. Yes, that's what I probably aspired to at that age, but I just can't bear the image of them slipping into StupidVille. Fresh air. Sunshine. Exercise. A fine start.
Summer school starts next week--and already we're in for a struggle. The State has moved Summer School to an offsite school, necessitating transportation. If only we could walk across the street like we normally do during the year. Ah, California. The crime is we're at an excellent public school. OK, moving on. I have tried to intice my son to read and write some before he loses all his year long progress of these skills. It has proven fruitless. A few unconvincing stabs is all we've achieved. I try to convince myself that, for atypically developing kids, this is probably typical.
So, today, after securing real summer camp for him in August, I took my son on a field trip. As we're not going back to our hometown this July 4th, I am trying to visit neglected, nearby places of interest. I also hoped to find some form of education or activity that encourages brain waves. The Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles couldn't have been a better choice. Renovated a couple years ago to the tune of about $93 Million, it is an amazing facility with much to offer. Interactive yet old-school exhibits; helpful, knowledgeable staff; science made fun --- we will be back. My son's behavior of late has suffered from a lack of routine and of structure, and a place like this will hopefully start the wheels turning again. A desperation move on my part, perhaps, to give up most of the entire weekday---but heck, it is a holiday weekend coming up. Not 100% perfect for our needs, however. The Dome-movie about the Center of the Universe was too scary. A minute into it, we had to leave the theatre. Maybe the anticipation of The Big Bang was too much to sit for. Maybe just the whole enveloped feeling of being lost in the celestial night was simply more that we could handle. He and I processed it later, and happily, my son still can't wait to go back to The G.O.
As we drove away, down the road from the Observatory, a scrawny canine-like creature crossed in front of our car. So glad I wasn't texting or something equally distracted, as I would have run over the beast. It turned around and looked at us. It had to be the saddest, hungriest, skinniest coyote I've ever seen. It was, in fact, the only coyote I've ever seen. He stood his ground without any bravado or terror. A colorful sendoff to a fun, exhilirating day.