Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Eggs
I went to a K-6 elementary school. The day we graduated, I went on a bike ride with two of my closest pals, Dan Baudino and Frank Howarth. (I’m ever hopeful these folks will google themselves and find me. Over the years, I haven’t had much luck tracking them down on the ‘net.) We rode down to Arcadia Park and beyond. There was an egg factory over on Baldwin Ave, if I remember correctly; it was one of those places where eggs were sorted into medium, large, and extra large cartons. We had no business being there but just the same, the workers let us watch.
To be continued . . .
Okay, I’m back.
I’m on call tonight, which means I’m shacked up here in Martinez (roughly equidistant between the two hospitals I cover) with my computer and my new Christopher Moore, A Dirty Job, hoping I’m not jinxing myself by taking off my tie and shirt, kicking back, and booting up the laptop.
So. Eggs.
We can’t get back into our infant minds, ever notice that? Best I can manage are vague memories of pestering my brother about maps, a follow-up to our great cross-country journey of 1964. I would have been three, and the memories are scarcely verbal. I do a little better recovering my elementary school mindset, far better still with junior high. It’s as if our brains finally come together with the first big gush of testosterone. I remember how it felt to be 7th Grade me, but that 6th Grader watching the egg sorter do its thing? Not so much.
A friend confided that she had a premonition with the pregnancy of her first son that he would grow up to kill her. I can’t relate. I have the usual fears — that my son will develop some dread disease, that he won’t be everything and do everything and for God’s sake survive me. I watch him futz on the computer, doing his magical 60 wpm two-fingered typing or walloping some poor bastard at chess, and I love him so much, and I wish I were a better father. I keep waiting for the angst to settle in, but it hasn’t. Maybe like his parents’ myopia, he’s been spared the emotional swings. Is that possible?
And there’s so much to worry about with the coming year, wanting him to leave the homeschooling nest and get into high school, because there’s so much we can’t do for him any longer . . . like having assignments he HAS to do (yeah, Jake, no more ignoring the stuff you dislike!) but mostly, the social interactions we cannot provide.
Homeschooling is great for keeping smart kids interested. It’s not so great when it comes to providing rigor. Karen’s doing a fine job with Jake’s math education, but so much else is hit and miss. In so many ways he’s functioning at the level of an 11th or 12th grader (or college student, for that matter), but it’s all so very insulated, the perfect little nest. Do I worry about throwing him into the snake pit of high school? Not with regard to peer pressure and drugs and all that rot. He’s an amazingly strong-willed individual, and I know he is very nearly peer pressure-proof. No, I worry about his emotional reaction to the change. We’ve made a good life for him, I think. He has never seemed to miss the lack of peer interaction; we’re all he needs (inasmuch as we’re the ones who provide him with internet access!) I worry that with high school, we may be pushing him into the deep end.
So we come to the end of this long ramble, wherein I felt I had something to say about eggs and nests and massive sorting machines that don’t much give a damn if a few eggs are broken. Yeah, something to say, but I’m not sure what.
D.
Peer interaction in a scholastic setting is overrated, IMO. When else in your life do you interact with people the same age as you? Probably never.
I could go on, but you probably don’t need to hear all the negatives of high school. 😉
I’d never thought about that before, but you’re right. Once you hit adulthood, age (within reason) becomes invisible.
I don’t think I’m weird, but I LOVED high school and college and so did all my children. Our oldest had some rough spots, but his schools and his peers were not to blame. I’m gonna go way out on a limb here and say that often when a teenager has trouble in school, the problem began at home. Like, for instance, when said oldest son was expelled from school for drinking beer and driving during a field trip just a few days after the birth of our 4th child, and the same day that my husband left for a week long business trip. It was the classic teenager’s “acting out” move designed to get everyone’s attention, and it worked. My husband was on the first plane home and in the next days our son did get all of everyone’s attention as we arranged for a new school, sought counseling, etc. – the whole nine yards. Thank goodness for big brothers- all the trouble they get into has a calming effect on the younger ones coming up. Teenagers want and need the independence high school brings, but they still crave and need their parents’ attention and love. If they get both, they usually do just fine. No matter where they go to school, they will still be teenagers with all the trimmings.
So far high school is really huge thumbs up for my two who’re doing it (or did it). Lots of different ways to deal with big brains there. Many AP classes.
Middle school was a total horrible experience for all three. Still is for my poor 6th grader. Worst experiences of all three lives come from middle school which also points out they have reasonably good lives.
What do you think of A Dirty Job? I liked it a lot. I’m listening to Fool now. Bawdy fun book. Almost too bawdy for me. Guy does a great middle-ages mixed with fantasy mixed with his own reality.