December 11: Clown in a Ring, Son's Christmas Program, Good Day

But the crowd loved it.  Avery heard nothing but the applause.  He liked being a clown in a ring, with everybody watching, in front of a grandstand.  When he discovered there was still a little water left in the bottom of the pail, he raised the pail high in the air and dumped the water on himself and made faces.  The children in the grandstand screamed with appreciation.

Avery, as I've said before, is a typical little boy.  He loves getting dirty, playing with frogs, collecting bugs.  And he loves being the center of attention.  Any opportunity that arises, Avery will try to grab the spotlight, even at Wilbur's award ceremony.


My son isn't quite as bad as Avery.  My son gets shy in front of large crowds.  I don't know where he gets it from.  I am not a shy person.  Neither is my wife.  In fact, we met in the theater.  I was directing a production of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and my wife auditioned.  We love being onstage.  I love giving poetry readings, being in the front of a classroom.  These are a few of my favorite things, to quote The Sound of Music.

Today was my son's Christmas program at school.  We spent the morning in a crowded gymnasium, packed into seats that were designed for residents of Munchkinland.  The music was too soft.  The kids sang off-key.  Some kids yawned in the middle of songs (my son included).  Some kids started crying when they saw all the people in the audience.  And that many people in close quarters tend to exude a communal aroma that can be a little nauseating.

It was a great morning.

I didn't have to go to work.  I was able to clean my house, send some e-mails, and listen to Christmas music.  A good day.  Tonight, I may actually be able to relax a little bit.  No grading.  No sweeping or vacuuming.  No pressing writing projects.  Maybe I'll read something for pleasure.  Take a nap.  Write a poem.

Or maybe Saint Marty will do...absolutely...nothing.

VOTE FOR ME FOR U. P. POET LAUREATE (voting ends December 31):

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Not a big fan of these kinds of clowns...

September 22: Multitasking, Church, "Web" Dip

I'm writing this post in my journal as I sit in church.  Monday nights, my son attends catechism classes.  And once a month, there's a session for the whole family.  It usually involves baked goods (my favorite), a video, and (for me) a sometimes tedious presentation about the nightly topic.  Tonight's topic is the sacraments.

Since I'm writing in my journal, you can probably surmise that I'm not all that engaged in the presentation.  The guy's giving an etymology lesson on the word "sacrament."  Everybody's looking at their watches already.  I just checked my phone for texts.  I'm not proud of my boredom, but I have so many things I have to do tonight.  Get my son to bed.  Pick up my daughter from dance classes.  Clean the bathroom.  Type in this post.  Make my lunch for tomorrow.  My mind is going in quite a lot of directions.

Thus, I am multitasking.  In church.  God may strike me dead, but, with a pen in my hand, I can center myself a little more.  That's the poet in me.  I don't feel any kind of electrical disturbance in the air, and my hair (what's left of it) isn't standing up, so I don't think I'm going to be smited (smote?) by lightning.

My question on this Web dip Monday has to do with my five-year-old son, who had some problems at school today.  The problems involved my son's fist and other kids' faces.  I was really hoping this year was going to be different than last year.  I was actually praying for it.  Right now, in conjunction with two doctors, we're thinking about medication to help my son control his impulses.

Now, please don't flood this blog with comments denouncing modern psychiatric medicine.  I don't want to be directed to hyperlinks about the evils of vaccinations and ADHD drugs.  I know it.  I've read it.  That's why I'm conflicted.  However, my son is headed toward another year of detentions and fights and teacher meetings.  I'm getting a little desperate.

So, my question:

Will my son ever learn to control himself and be a good boy in school?

And the answer from E. B. White:

...Mrs. Arable scrubbed the back of Avery's neck, and wet his hair, and parted it, and brushed it down hard till it stuck to the top of his head--all but about six hairs that stood straight up.  Avery put on clean underwear, clean blue jeans, and a clean shirt...

So maybe there's nothing wrong with my son.  Maybe he's just Avery, with frogs in his pockets and hay in his hair.


That answer gives Saint Marty a little comfort tonight.  Amen.  (That's how you end everything when you're in church.)

I think God is a multi-tasker, too