ethanisms for today:
Mom can you make your breastmilk into cheese?
(While I am using the restroom he is shouting through the door wanting to have a conversation) Mom I know you can multitask!
We are doing work with fractions and decimals at home this summer as well as cursive writing. Texas public schools are so obsessed with TAKS that they leave gaping holes in some topics. Today I was trying to explain what 7/8 actually means when you convert it to a decimal. So you have seven apples and eight hungry children. Each kid only gets a fraction of an apple-thus a fraction or a decimal of an apple. Ethan then decided that perhaps a more fitting example was eight hungry sharks and seven helpless children. Each shark doesn't get a whole kid. This then led into a discussion of how to approprioately fragment the seven children and we moved to a discussion of plato's world with perfect separation rather than our imperfect world.
Nyjah is six weeks old now. There are tentative smiles for dad and ethan as well as the closet and some of my friends but none for mom. I am the milk provider, not worthy of smiles. This morning he woke up cuddled in my arm nook after his morning routine of a thousand farts and grunts. His little eyes peeked open and he began to stretch every part of his tiny anatomy. His eyes rolled around and widened and closed, squinted and squished. His mouth got big and little and round, then pursed and puckered, and suddenly a little tongue emerged and got very long and then disapperaed into it's little cave again. His cheeks puffed and wrinkled and little lines became etched into his tiny, hairy brow. His head rolled in little circles, arms flexed and grasped and his whole body extended as far back as it would go, little legs pointed and fixed.
Then he relaxed and opened his yoga-asian-wise old man eyeballs and looked at me and milk.
