We are having a change of command ceremony in a week or so, and apparently today I saw the new commander, though I didn't know it at the time. I didn't have any interaction with her, but other soldiers seem to have, and good rumors are flying around, like PT (physical training) three days a week instead of four, meaning I have an extra day a week I don't have to wake up at 3:30. I really don't know how much of a difference the commander makes on daily life, because outside of Basic Training, I've really only had one; however, I expect the difference is probably pretty considerable.
Chinese is going well. We spend less and less time on the textbook and more on news and other "authentic" articles. Despite focusing less on the textbook, my grades on the tests that cover the textbook material keep going up, and my GPA keeps improving. I am finally to where I can watch an easy movie and get the plot and details from listening, and it's good to practice to watch them now. That's an enjoyable form of homework.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
How much is psychological?
My kids intrigue me, and teach me a lot about psychology. My oldest has an instinctive aversion to anything he has decided is hot, (or that has mushrooms -- thanks dear!) including the container we have of chili powder, which to me has absolutely no heat to it at all. It causes problems with toothpaste. He likes to use the toddler toothpaste, despite not being a toddler (or even close) because EVERY mint-flavored toothpaste is too hot for him. A little while ago, I brought home a jalapeño yogurt dip from Costco, and told him it was hot. It wasn't really that hot, but it was much hotter than things he had previously rejected as way too hot. He convinced his brother to try it, as a sort of mean trick, but his brother surprised him and said it wasn't hot at all. After that, all three of the boys tried it, and all decided they liked it, and that it wasn't hot one bit.
On the other hand, my youngest, wants to eat my bleu cheese every time I get it out. Each time, he tells me he likes bleu cheese, I give him a bite, and he makes a funny face, quickly telling me he doesn't like bleu cheese. Despite all his optimism, reality changes his mind every time. Then again, the very last time he told me, after eating it, he did like it. I don't know what to make of that at all.
On the other hand, my youngest, wants to eat my bleu cheese every time I get it out. Each time, he tells me he likes bleu cheese, I give him a bite, and he makes a funny face, quickly telling me he doesn't like bleu cheese. Despite all his optimism, reality changes his mind every time. Then again, the very last time he told me, after eating it, he did like it. I don't know what to make of that at all.
Keeping Records
Everyone who has been in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for very long has heard the counsel to keep a journal. In the mission field I finally took it seriously, attempting to write every day, and coming pretty close. I filled two books, writing about 500 pages (maybe 150 typed pages) during the two years. When I came home, I did a fair job of keeping it up, although in fairly short order I started typing them, with the plan of writing them out on paper when I had the time. I felt hand-written was more personal and would be nicer to read. When I got about six months behind on writing it by hand, I finally gave it up and realized I was never going to finish writing it out by hand, and that since I type so much faster than I write, I was going to be able to give posterity a lot more information if I typed it. As life went on, I got a little busier, and some nights I didn't have the strength (or opportunity) to type an entry, so I followed a missionary companion's example and started doing audio recordings of my day. I had been doing this for a few years, with fewer and fewer days typed out and more and more recorded, when I had an epiphany. I was talking for an average of 5-10 minutes per day about what happened, what my thoughts were on it, or just what I thought on any number of topics. I realized that if I really did that every day, assuming five minutes a day, and fifty years of doing it, it would add up to 1520 hours of journal. If someone were to be interested in my life and wanted to listen to all of it, it would be a full-time job for six months, maybe a little more. I got a bit discouraged about it, thinking who in their right mind is ever going to spend 1500 hours of their life just listening to me talk about mine?! A decision to only do a journal entry when I feel like something really important has backfired on me though. In the months since I had that thought, I think I have only written once or twice. When I was counseled by the Spirit and by the leaders in the Church to keep a record of my life, and promised it would be a blessing to my posterity, I don't think they intended for it to end up being a short summary every six months or year! I guess I need to learn how to better edit my own thoughts? Is the amount a prolific blogger types the right amount? I have a hard time, when posting on something so directly given to others in the here and now, like a blog, because I stop myself from writing everything, thinking, "No, that's not important enough to take up others' time with." If I only write on occasion, it never becomes a habit, like a daily journal. I was to where I rarely ever forgot to write, but I found when I did decide not to for a day, it quickly multiplied into much longer, which is one reason I (and I think others) set up a blog, and then go months between posts. I don't have a good conclusion yet, to this blog or my dilemma.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Letting Your Child Fail
One of the things that inevitably comes up with children is when
and how you should allow them to fail. This week I had two
situations which kind of reflect on this.
The first was Demetri's Pinewood Derby. (On a side note, it made me feel old to have a son old enough to be making a pinewood derby car. It's a small step, but pretty soon it will be turning twelve instead of eight.) The question is, how much effort should be expended towards making the car as fast as possible, especially with a goal of "winning". Is it bad for a child to lose often? We have to hope not, since only one kid out of the eighteen or so who entered could win. Kids are eternal optimists, and all want to win first. In Demetri's case, I was more worried than usual because of his experience with the raingutter regatta a few months ago, where he almost didn't get to race at all because I had no time to make the boat with him, and we procrastinated. We did eventually get a boat put together on the day of, I think, but it was an unpainted, unadorned, far cry from most of the other catamarans and fancy boats there. He was embarrassed about his boat being ugly, slow, and having a sail that kept sliding down the mast. I'm not sure if he had the slowest boat, but he only won one heat, which didn't help because it was best-out-of-three. I'm proud to say his car looked far better and took far longer than his boat, but sadly wasn't much faster, or so it seemed. I don't know really, as a double-elimination style tournament really only tells you for sure who was first and who was second; even third place could be heavily involved with chance. As it was, Demetri raced two and lost two. He was in tears I think at the end of the second race. (I was being a judge and he went to his mother for comfort). It did help that he was sitting next to a friend whose car met the same fate. Is it bad for a kid's confidence to put him in a race where at least three contestants are guaranteed to lose both times they get to race, all to believe they had the slowest car? It probably makes it worse that you spend so many hours making the car and weeks getting pumped up for the activity.
Today I had a run-in with my two-year-old, who decided he didn't want his diaper changed. It all stemmed from the fact that he really likes everything to be the same. He needs to have his Mickey Mouse (Huggies from Costco) diapers, and the blue-packaged Kirkland Signature wipes (not that he knows the name of the brands, he just knows the colors. We accidentally forgot wipes, and borrowed some from another family at church, who just happened to have Parents' Choice (purple-packaged) wipes. When he saw the wipes package was the wrong color, he decided he absolutely did not want his diaper changed. Instead of just bodily picking him up, going to the bathroom, and forcibly changing his diaper, I decided to explain the consequences of not getting his diaper changed, expecting his desire to return to nursery would overcome his revulsion of purple wipes. Boy, was I wrong! When we left nursery, there were about 20-25 minutes left, including snacks, my son's favorite part. He kept yelling and crying, saying he wanted to go back to nursery, and I kept patiently explaining that he could go back as soon as he let me change his diaper, to which he just kept responding, “No!” Knowing he fully understood me and his dilemma, I changed tactics. When he said he wanted to go back, I asked what he had to do to go back. All this won me was a vehement, “I DON”T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING!” I explained to him that if he didn't let me change his diaper, he wouldn't get to go back to nursery, and I would end up changing his diaper anyway. After a few minutes, I realized there was a very good chance he was just going to be stubborn the whole time, and totally miss nursery. I really thought about changing his diaper despite his objections, knowing that once he was through it, he would be much happier, and get to go back to a good place, nursery, instead of crying in the bathroom for twenty minutes. It was clearly the happier option, one he would be grateful of in the end, but it wasn't what he was choosing. Should I let him fail, and miss nursery, or force him to doing what I knew would make him happy? In the end, I waited until nursery was over, then changed his diaper over his objections like I already told him I would do. He went back to the nursery to find most the kids gone, his snack just being put away that had been waiting for him (which I didn't allow him to have; no, he was not actually really deprived of food), and nursery over. He cried about that, although honestly, he didn't cry during the diaper change or after arriving back at the nursery near as much as I expected. He even stopped crying for the diaper change, I think because he felt he was going to get to back to nursery now, which was a little sad. It amazes me how small things at any age can swell to such dramatic proportions. I can realize that me being late to a formation, or something like it, here in my job is really, in the long run, about as meaningful as my son missing the rest of nursery. It does make it so lessons of responsibility learned at age two can have lasting effects well into our adult lives though, which I think could be a great thing. Better to make the mistakes early.
The first was Demetri's Pinewood Derby. (On a side note, it made me feel old to have a son old enough to be making a pinewood derby car. It's a small step, but pretty soon it will be turning twelve instead of eight.) The question is, how much effort should be expended towards making the car as fast as possible, especially with a goal of "winning". Is it bad for a child to lose often? We have to hope not, since only one kid out of the eighteen or so who entered could win. Kids are eternal optimists, and all want to win first. In Demetri's case, I was more worried than usual because of his experience with the raingutter regatta a few months ago, where he almost didn't get to race at all because I had no time to make the boat with him, and we procrastinated. We did eventually get a boat put together on the day of, I think, but it was an unpainted, unadorned, far cry from most of the other catamarans and fancy boats there. He was embarrassed about his boat being ugly, slow, and having a sail that kept sliding down the mast. I'm not sure if he had the slowest boat, but he only won one heat, which didn't help because it was best-out-of-three. I'm proud to say his car looked far better and took far longer than his boat, but sadly wasn't much faster, or so it seemed. I don't know really, as a double-elimination style tournament really only tells you for sure who was first and who was second; even third place could be heavily involved with chance. As it was, Demetri raced two and lost two. He was in tears I think at the end of the second race. (I was being a judge and he went to his mother for comfort). It did help that he was sitting next to a friend whose car met the same fate. Is it bad for a kid's confidence to put him in a race where at least three contestants are guaranteed to lose both times they get to race, all to believe they had the slowest car? It probably makes it worse that you spend so many hours making the car and weeks getting pumped up for the activity.
Today I had a run-in with my two-year-old, who decided he didn't want his diaper changed. It all stemmed from the fact that he really likes everything to be the same. He needs to have his Mickey Mouse (Huggies from Costco) diapers, and the blue-packaged Kirkland Signature wipes (not that he knows the name of the brands, he just knows the colors. We accidentally forgot wipes, and borrowed some from another family at church, who just happened to have Parents' Choice (purple-packaged) wipes. When he saw the wipes package was the wrong color, he decided he absolutely did not want his diaper changed. Instead of just bodily picking him up, going to the bathroom, and forcibly changing his diaper, I decided to explain the consequences of not getting his diaper changed, expecting his desire to return to nursery would overcome his revulsion of purple wipes. Boy, was I wrong! When we left nursery, there were about 20-25 minutes left, including snacks, my son's favorite part. He kept yelling and crying, saying he wanted to go back to nursery, and I kept patiently explaining that he could go back as soon as he let me change his diaper, to which he just kept responding, “No!” Knowing he fully understood me and his dilemma, I changed tactics. When he said he wanted to go back, I asked what he had to do to go back. All this won me was a vehement, “I DON”T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING!” I explained to him that if he didn't let me change his diaper, he wouldn't get to go back to nursery, and I would end up changing his diaper anyway. After a few minutes, I realized there was a very good chance he was just going to be stubborn the whole time, and totally miss nursery. I really thought about changing his diaper despite his objections, knowing that once he was through it, he would be much happier, and get to go back to a good place, nursery, instead of crying in the bathroom for twenty minutes. It was clearly the happier option, one he would be grateful of in the end, but it wasn't what he was choosing. Should I let him fail, and miss nursery, or force him to doing what I knew would make him happy? In the end, I waited until nursery was over, then changed his diaper over his objections like I already told him I would do. He went back to the nursery to find most the kids gone, his snack just being put away that had been waiting for him (which I didn't allow him to have; no, he was not actually really deprived of food), and nursery over. He cried about that, although honestly, he didn't cry during the diaper change or after arriving back at the nursery near as much as I expected. He even stopped crying for the diaper change, I think because he felt he was going to get to back to nursery now, which was a little sad. It amazes me how small things at any age can swell to such dramatic proportions. I can realize that me being late to a formation, or something like it, here in my job is really, in the long run, about as meaningful as my son missing the rest of nursery. It does make it so lessons of responsibility learned at age two can have lasting effects well into our adult lives though, which I think could be a great thing. Better to make the mistakes early.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Hot Cereal and the Internet
So my wife wanted me to start a blog. We'll see how many people find it. I can see how a blog could be worthwhile for others, but I'm not sure how you attract them to look at your blog in the first place. We'll see if people find it on their own.
I'm grateful right now for the Internet. We bought a 10-grain cereal (Bob's Red Mill) in a big bag, and my (wonderful) wife put it into smaller containers and through the bag away. That's all and good, except I can never remember how to cook it, and I can't look on the bag. I always think 2:1 water-to-cereal ratio, and try to cook it uncovered, when it's supposed to be 3:1 and covered. You can probably guess how my cereal usually comes out. Well, this morning I had the same dilemma, and my sweet wife isn't here to ask (and would still be asleep if she was here), but I finally realized I have the Internet. Sure enough, it took about twenty seconds to find a high-resolution picture of the bag (and the instructions) on-line, and now I get to have a decent breakfast. (Although Annie would say that adding peanut butter and jelly to your hot cereal could never be called "decent". It's pretty good though.)
I'm grateful right now for the Internet. We bought a 10-grain cereal (Bob's Red Mill) in a big bag, and my (wonderful) wife put it into smaller containers and through the bag away. That's all and good, except I can never remember how to cook it, and I can't look on the bag. I always think 2:1 water-to-cereal ratio, and try to cook it uncovered, when it's supposed to be 3:1 and covered. You can probably guess how my cereal usually comes out. Well, this morning I had the same dilemma, and my sweet wife isn't here to ask (and would still be asleep if she was here), but I finally realized I have the Internet. Sure enough, it took about twenty seconds to find a high-resolution picture of the bag (and the instructions) on-line, and now I get to have a decent breakfast. (Although Annie would say that adding peanut butter and jelly to your hot cereal could never be called "decent". It's pretty good though.)
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